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deunmiu-dessie · 1 year ago

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ⅴ▬ ⁽ 𝑜𝓇𝒸 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎��: ₅˖₇ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, explicit content, teratophilia, orc/royalty!human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, breeding, spit kink, sloppy kisses, size difference, somnophilia, slight voyeurism, orcish, reader loses all forms of etiquette and just babbles-- stupidly, belly bulge. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: as royalty it's your duty to marry and provide heirs for the kingdom, however, your parents have a different plan for you.

꒰m!orc ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

𝐹or as long as you can remember, you have been allured by the forbidden. Whenever your parents commanded you to abstain from a certain act or sternly prohibited you from engaging in another, it ignited a fervor within your being. And inevitably, you succumbed to its allure.

Your relationship with your parents was not a harmonious one. From the time you were but a child, they made it abundantly clear that you were not conceived out of their love for one another, but rather out of an obligation to the throne. To them, you were an inconvenience, a mere hindrance that they longed to be rid of. Thus, you existed in a perpetual state of unease, forever uncertain of their next move.

The castle bustled with activity this week, the number of knights seemed to have multiplied, and your encounters with your parents grew scarce. Your daily meals together became non-existent- not that you were complaining. Instead, during supper, they scorned and mocked you—drawing comparisons to your elder cousin who had recently become betrothed to a Duke. You were aware that they would arrange a marriage for you; it was inevitable, but you hoped it would be to someone who would eventually cherish you as you would them.

Verily, this day seemed naught but a replica of the day prior—a day draped in melancholy. The heavens were adorned with clouds of a somber ashy hue, obscuring the radiant sun in its entirety, and permitting but a scant ray of light to penetrate. You lay sprawled on your bed; the clamor from beyond your door kept you from getting any sleep, so you opt to lay there, eyes shut and breathing even.

The two hefty thuds at your door jolt you awake, your eyes snapping to the entrance. A servant girl stood there, her gaze piercing, and her upper lip curled in a sneer. "The King and Queen request your presence for a meal in the dining chamber."

You release a heavy sigh and nod. "Yes, I shall join them shortly, Nadia." she scoffs and closes the door with a soft thud. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you rose from your bed, slipping into your shoes with a sense of resignation. Hastily, you arranged your disheveled hair and adjusted your attire in the mirror, preparing yourself for the impending encounter. Finally, summoning your resolve, you embarked on the descent towards the dining hall.

Your stomach churns uncomfortably as you motion towards the knights, fingers twisting nervously as they swing open the heavy oak doors. Stepping into the chamber, you swiftly bow and linger there for a moment, awaiting permission to be seated. "Hail to the Sun and Moon of the realm." Your sire grunts and gestures for you to take a seat; you release a shaky breath and settle across from your mother, who pays you no mind.

Within the dining hall, a profound stillness prevails, accompanied solely by the gentle clatter of utensils upon porcelain plates. You dare to disrupt the silence, your heart constricting within your breast, burdened by your uneasiness. " Pray tell, have I heard true? Have the demons breached the borders, causing mayhem? Is that why the ranks of the noble knights have swelled in recent days?"

The older man looks up from his meal, steely eyes on your face. "I did not deem you astute enough to discern matters of such nature, but aye, it is true. The Orcs shall breach the barrier if we do not do something. The knights from Tvatian shall not grace us with their presence for a week's time, yet our defenses wane with each passing moment."

The sound of your mother's throat being cleared reverberates through the air, abruptly drawing your eyes towards her. "You shall soon attain the age of twenty, my dear. Do you have any intentions of entering into wedlock?" Her voice possesses a cloying sweetness, signifying her ulterior motives; she is forever scheming. As you carefully place your knife and fork on the table, you grant her your undivided focus. "Aye, mother," you reply, your words tinged with a touch of uncertainty.

With a disapproving click of her tongue, she gracefully lifted her goblet to her lips, attempting to conceal the mischievous grin that flickered across her features. "Verily, a little bird has whispered in my ear that Orcs take pleasure in having humans as mere playthings, using them as harlots and passing them amongst themselves. How dreadful."

Your hands clench beneath the table, and you struggle to suppress the bile that threatens to rise. Your heart thumps sporadically in your chest, almost painfully. What is she implying? "Pray tell, what is the essence of your words?"

"The royal family's expectations are not to be taken lightly, my child. If you persist in shirking your responsibilities by avoiding marriage and offspring, alternative measures must be considered. You shall be delivered to the head Orc at the border; mayhap that will pacify them until the Tavatian knights arrive." Your father had spoken this time, causing you to swiftly turn your gaze towards him. Tears welled up in your eyes, and a soft laughter escaped your lips. "Pray, father, assure me that you jest."

The answer lies within his silence. Your hands collide with the table, your head sways vehemently from side to side. "Nay, nay! You shall not subject me to this. What offense have I caused thee? I have obeyed all your commands unquestioningly, and you are planning to— Nay, I shall not proceed."

As the succulent salmon dances on her fork, your mother's laughter fills the air, resonating with a warmth that belies the gravity of her words. "My dear child, you find yourself bereft of options. You shall be deemed a traitor to the noble lineage and condemned to perish before your very birthday." A lump lodges itself in your throat, and tears stream down your face, as you rue the moment you stepped out of your room. "For what reason do you bear such animosity towards me?"

"Escort her back to her chamber; she's giving me indigestion," your mother states with a grimace. The knights pause briefly, uncertain of how to guide you away. Dismissing them with a wave of your hand, you rise from your chair and exit the chamber, tears clouding your sight. The journey back is unsettling, with the maids gossiping and gesturing, their disdain evident on their faces, and their disapproving gazes following you.

The door is forcefully slammed shut behind you, and with great urgency, your feet carry you to your bed, where you collapse with a heavy sigh. Almost immediately, your pillow becomes saturated with the tears that pour forth, and you huddle into yourself, simply becoming smaller.

Indeed, you knew this would occur eventually, but you hadn't thought you would be handed over to some hideous monster who would likely slay you upon arrival. Violent sobs wrack your body, shaking you to the core, while your nose runs uncontrollably, the pillow muffles a scream of agony.

After half an hour had passed, you lay there, sleep welcoming you with warm arms. The answer to this puzzle would reveal itself upon your awakening.

—

Woken by the sound of shuffling, faint whispers, and delicate clinks, you remain motionless, filled with trepidation, and unwilling to stir from your position. You quickly clench your eyes shut upon hearing the intruder approach. As much as you desired to confront them, you were also intrigued to uncover their intentions within your room.

"Seize her limbs; we must transport her to the dungeon." In an instant, your heart falters, trembling fiercely, and for a moment, your breath is held captive. As your eyes snap open, the ceiling of your chamber looms above you. Swiftly, you strike at the person nearest to you, expressing gratitude to the gods as you hear their curse.

Emerging hastily from the confines of your bed, you sprint towards the exit, a shrill cry escaping your lips as a hand clutches your ankle. You descend abruptly, your chin colliding with the cold marble beneath, silently expressing gratitude for the prudent act of placing your tongue against the roof of your mouth in the final moments.

Swiftly flipping over, you kick frantically, tears streaming down your face as your legs are forcefully spread apart, and the assailant inserts themselves between your thighs, seizing hold of your arms.

Your vision blurs as a heavy slap is brought across your face. The brief respite from your struggle grants the assailants the opportunity to lay a cloth upon your nostrils. Your eyes flutter shut, darkness casting a shadow upon your vision. The feel of your body being lifted is the only thing you remember.

Within the confines of the cell, you find yourself in a state of contemplation, your head gently leaning against the cold metal bars. The sharp sound of heels striking the ground causes you to straighten up. The passage of time remains elusive, yet the atmosphere hints at the arrival of a new day, shrouded in the quiet of dawn.

Your mother's face came into view, causing you to sneer in disdain as you buried your head in your knees, refusing to meet her gaze. The very sound of her voice sent shivers down your spine, igniting a mixture of anger and sorrow within you. She callously auctioned you off, displaying a complete lack of concern for your well-being.

"I reckoned it would be preferable for you to don your best attire, but it would be futile. A watchman shall be present shortly to guide you to the border, make no disturbance, do you understand? 'Twould be unsightly if you do."

You ignore her, but deep down, you are filled with dread to venture towards the border. You longed to weep and plead with her to refrain from sending you, but it would only wound your pride. Instead, she smiles and draws nigh unto the prison bars. "When we emerge victorious in this war, and if you are still breathing, I shall dispatch you to a brothel. I couldn't possibly have such a defiled child. Revel in your sojourn there, my dear."

The clatter-clack of her footwear slowly vanishing into the distance brings forth a torrent of tears. Why must this befall you? What sin have you committed to warrant such treatment? The jingle-jangle of keys catches your attention; the guard stands before you with a look of pity. "Your majesty, the time has arrived."

You nod in a pitiful manner and rise from the ground, using your soiled hands to dry your tears, leaving traces of dirt on your cheeks. As you draw near to the guard, he pulls down his sleeve and tenderly wipes your cheeks with a sympathetic smile. You bow softly in gratitude and proceed to walk with him to the carriage.

He assists you inside and closes the door; a click prompts you to peer through the tiny gap. A lock secures the door; as you lock eyes with the guard, he merely sighs and shakes his head. "The Queen has requested this. I beg your pardon, Your Majesty."

You remain silent, leaning back in the seat and staring blankly at the castle. You see your father standing at his office window, observing. You avoid his gaze, curling up in the seat. Then, as the carriage sets in motion, your heart swells, and tears flow.

The carriage's abrupt jolt awakens you from your nap; the sun is just beginning to descend, signaling the end of a day filled with endless riding. The only noise is the steady trot of the horses and the occasional whisper of the soldiers. Have you arrived already? You swallow nervously and flinch as the door is forcefully opened. "We have arrived, your highness."

You nod and sit up, clasping his hand to disembark from the carriage. Your eyes swiftly survey the surroundings. Despite the tales, the border seemed relatively serene. You couldn't hear anything from beyond the wall. At length, a throat is cleared, causing you to look up, and the guard beckons you along. You hesitate for only a moment before fortifying your resolve and walking forward.

After much anticipation, the distant voices grow more distinct. "Captain, 'tis here! Shall we unseal the gates?" The clamor of the ponderous wheels turning and ascending is loud in your ears. The gate opens enough to allow your passage beneath. They weren't wasting time at all. The guard places a hand on your lower back and pushes you forward gently. "The Orc General has agreed to receive you; he's on the other side waiting."

You suppress the lump in your throat and proceed, every gaze fixed upon you. The wall loomed thick and intimidating, and you couldn't shake off the fear of it collapsing on you as you reached the other side. However, as you eventually crossed over, your gaze locked with his.

Standing tall at a minimum of 9 feet, he possessed a powerful build adorned with thick muscles, and hair decorating his chest. Dark brown hair cascaded down to his waist woven into an intricate braid, contrasting against his pear-colored complexion and a thick beard enveloped his jaw. Scars crisscrossed his body, enhancing his rugged charm. Despite his blunt tusks, one of which was slightly chipped, there was no denying the outrageous attractiveness of this Orc.

As he takes a step forward, an instinctual reflex compels you to retreat, a shiver of trepidation coursing through your being. Your legs, heavy as if forged from lead, refuse to heed your desperate plea for escape. A subtle chuckle escapes his lips, the corners curling upwards in a smug grin. "Time is not a luxury I possess, little human," he mocks, his voice dripping with impatience.

You part your lips to utter a response, but only silence greets your futile attempt. The resounding thud of the closing wall seals your grim destiny, causing your weakened knees to buckle beneath you, surrendering to the tender embrace of the grassy ground. With a deep sigh, he strides towards you, casting a towering shadow over your slumped figure, a chilling reminder of his overpowering presence.

With utmost ease, he effortlessly lifts you, as if you were as light as a feather. Your body tenses in his embrace, a mixture of vulnerability and anticipation. The tears well up, threatening to spill over. Surprisingly, his touch is tender, his hands delicately traversing your legs and back. Summoning your courage, you manage to muster a question, your voice trembling slightly.

"Might I inquire about your name?" Despite your hesitant speech, he pays no mind, his voice resonating with a deep timber that sends a surge of desire coursing through your veins. A flush of warmth spreads across your face, compelling you to avert your gaze and focus on your lap. "I am Loran, the General of the Mammoth Clan."

Silence envelops the air for a fleeting moment before your voice breaks through once more. "My name is (Name)" He acknowledges your introduction with a subtle hum, and together, you navigate through the labyrinthine paths until you arrive at a large tent. With utmost care, he settles you upon a sumptuous bed adorned with furs, then proceeds to position himself near a table, obscuring its contents from your prying eyes.

A knot tightens in your throat as you summon the courage to voice your deepest fear. "Might you have intentions of devouring me?" you whisper, recoiling at the childlike vulnerability that tinges on your words.

His laughter causes a flutter in your chest; every aspect of him leaves your insides twisted. At last, he ceases his actions and pivots to meet your gaze, his arms folded. You had to physically remind yourself to avert your eyes from his well-defined muscles. "Would you like me to?" His voice carries a teasing lilt, yet his words hint at something more intimate.

You shake your head in denial and draw your knees closer to your body. He was nothing like the figure you had imagined; you were convinced that your life would have ended by now. Your gaze wanders aimlessly as you delve into your own musings. Unbeknownst to you, he crouches down before you. The calloused tips of his fingers grazing your chin send a shiver down your spine. Your eyes meet his, and you find yourself holding your breath.

"The hour grows late; retire for the night. "

You offer a silent nod, watching him leave the tent. Following his guidance, you settle back onto the furs. After the tumultuous events of the day, slumber swiftly envelops you, embracing the plush comfort of the bedding.

The warmth seeping into your skin prompts you to wriggle out of the furs. The weight of an arm flung over your stomach arrests you, dread settling in your heart and coiling around it like a vice. Though yesterday's events come rushing back to you and you relax, your tense body melting into Loran's embrace.

Despite the circumstances that brought you here, he had shown nothing but kindness, even playfulness - he didin't really make you uneasy, and it seemed as though a burden had been lifted from your shoulders.

In the realm of uncertainty, his actions remained capricious, yet amidst this unpredictability, a newfound liberation enveloped your being, you were free. Loran, with an irresistible allure, draws you nearer, your bodies melding as your front meets his. You place your hands on his chest and gently create distance, huffing as he cuddles closer.

After struggling a bit more, you come to a stop and seize the opportunity to examine him closely. Withdrawing your hand from his chest, you gently place it on his cheek, relishing its velvety texture. Loran possessed a striking appearance. Tracing your fingers along his lips, the sensation of his tusks lightly brushing against your fingertips captivates you once more. Their smoothness leaves you mesmerized. The rounded tips are gentle and harmless; they would not cause any discomfort if you were to share a kiss.

Blushing with embarrassment, your cheeks turn a rosy hue, and for a fleeting moment, you seek solace by burying your face into his chest. Raising your gaze once more, you cautiously wave your hand before his face, ensuring his continued slumber. With no signs of movement and a steady rhythm of breath, a sigh of relief escapes your lips.

Gradually, you shift your position, ascending along his form, while your heart flutters nervously within your chest. With a mixture of fascination and unease, you lean closer, drawn to an inexplicable magnetism emanating from him. His lips, so alluring, entice you irresistibly.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you lean in with deliberate slowness, capturing his lips with yours. The sensation of his tusks grazing your skin sends a rush of pleasure up your spine. With closed eyes, you deepen the kiss, savoring the unexpected softness of his lips. His taste is intoxicating, akin to a forbidden elixir. You have always been drawn to forbidden pleasures.

With a hint of reluctance, you retreat, allowing your eyes to slowly unveil the world around you. A startled gasp escapes your lips as your gaze meets Loran's. Despite your endeavors to break free from his embrace, his arms encase you like unyielding steel, entrapping you. Loran's chuckle resonates with a profound and drowsy timbre, while his hand ascends to firmly grasp your chin. "Do not flee from me, Sma ni." ( little one )

His lips are on yours, gentle and governing. His other hand gripping your waist and quickly lifting you onto his chest. The sensation of his thick and moist tongue overpowering your mouth elicits a fervent moan from deep within you, while your thighs instinctively clasp around his stomach. As his hands glide up your top, the pads of his fingers diligently work out the tension in your soft skin. Gradually, they find their way to your hips, expertly guiding them to grind against his abdomen.

With a soft whine escaping your mouth, you break the connection of his kiss, and your tongue lazily protrudes, leaving a trail of warm saliva on your chin. A primal growl resonates from deep within his chest, causing your thoughts to blur. Your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, the rough hair gently tickling your palms. The pressure on your hips eases, and his hand tightly grasps your hair, enabling him to sit up and halt the rhythmic grind of your hips.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as the throbbing sensation between your thighs intensifies. Loran's lips trail along the curve of your throat, delicately nibbling at your tender skin, while his tongue glides with ease. Suddenly, a tearing sound startles you and a rush of cool air caresses your newly bared legs. The remnants of your shredded trousers gracefully descend to the floor, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

Upon the velvety fur, Loran tenderly positions you, his voracious eyes meticulously exploring the expanse of your body. In a swift motion, he removes the sole obstruction that conceals your body, leaving you vulnerable to his cravings. You clench your thighs, your pussy pulsating with emptiness. This man was sinful; he looked so delectable, his lips shimmering with the remnants of your passionate kisses, and his complexion adorned with a captivating flush.

He lets out a deep groan, settling himself amidst your thighs, the ache in your legs a mere whisper compared to the intensity of his touch, tongue dancing over your nipples, nipping and tugging. Loran's hand travels up your body, his thick fingers entering your warm, wet mouth. You suppress a gag and suck on them shyly, tears welling up in your eyes. As his fingers delve deeper into your throat, you grasp his wrist firmly, your hips grinding against his thick bulge.

Loran pulls his fingers from your mouth, watching the rivulets of saliva drip down his digits. Leaving a glistening trail of moisture along your body, Loran delicately caresses his fingers through the soft curls of hair on your pussy, teasing you with the soft touch of his fingertips. With deliberate precision, he gradually eases one digit into the confines of your snug entrance stretching you. You pull your fleshy bottom lip into your mouth, teeth digging painfully. Your lashes flutter, exposing the whites of your eyes as they roll back in blissful surrender, eyebrows arching. Your mewls are soft and pleading. "Mmph! L-Loran. Please "

Your voice is a siren's call to him, as you whimper and plead for him. His desire to possess you completely, to fuck you full of his cum, to have you swollen with his young, consumes him. The mere thought of it almost brings him to the brink of release. Granting mercy upon your adorable, fucked out face, he finally sinks his finger into your cunt, relishing the exquisite tightness that embraces him, while your delicate hands clutch his braid and tug.

With his other hand, he gently cups your cheeks between his large, powerful fingers, causing your lips to pucker. His mouth descends upon yours, messy and dominating, leaving a trail of mingled saliva that pools down your flushed cheeks. He chuckles as your eyes wander elsewhere, glazed and hazy with pleasure as he eases a single finger inside you.

A high-pitched sound escapes your lips as he expertly probes a sensitive spot deep within you, causing your hips to tremble and your inner walls to clench around his fingers. Leaning closer, his warm breath brushes against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Ayh lat naka ve cum, sma shara? " His mother tongue is foreign to you, but it sounds absolutely erotic, especially while he's stroking your drooling pussy skillfully. You shudder fervently, emitting mewls and whimpers, as the squelching noises of his thrusts fill the confined space of the tent. “I—uhn~ w-wait p-please, Lor…” You babble nonsensically. ( are you going to cum, little human? )

Loran, in a teasing mood, complies with your dumb prattling, and moves away from you, fingers slipping out with an erotic pop. A soft whimper escapes your lips, your lower lip jutting out in a pout as tears well up in your eyes from the empty feeling in your pussy, your eyes widen at seeing him suck on his dampened fingers. “N-no, why’d you stop!”

With a chuckle, the Orc leans in to press a tender kiss on your flushed cheeks, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I simply did as you asked, Faushnu," he whispers. Pulling back slightly, he studies your expression - your eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, and your chest rising and falling rapidly. "I did not mean for this," you whimper, grinding your hips against his growing bulge. “M-more. Give me more.” You give him a stern glare, that only turns him on more, his little hostage was so demanding. ( baby ) "Of course, Your Highness," he says, his tone dripping with playful mockery. Loran's large hands firmly grasp your waist, swiftly maneuvering you onto your stomach. With a gentle yet commanding motion, he elevates your hips, causing your face to be buried in the soft furs beneath you. The sensation is almost agonizing as your back arches, eliciting a sharp squeal from your lips. A glob of warm saliva unexpectedly lands on your moistened pussy, causing an involuntary clenching reaction. "What are yo--?"

Before you can finish, the sudden roughness of his tongue against your throbbing cunt has you seeing stars. His feral growls reverberate through the air, as his tongue delves and ravishes you with an insatiable fervor. Reduced to a whimpering wreck, tears of rapturous delight cascade down your flushed face. Desperate to regain control, you weakly press your small hand against the crown of his head, attempting to halt the relentless onslaught. "No more, please, m'gunna cum. Want to cum for you," you manage to slur amidst incoherent babbling, your words a contradictory mix.

Loran, enraptured by your musings, fingers your pussy once again, effortlessly finding that spongey nerve inside of you and deftly curling his thick finger into it, time and again. A torrent of scorching pleasure engulfs your entire being, as you succumb to an intense climax, your trembling thighs embracing his head while your pussy flutters around his finger.

" Loran! "You slur, thighs still convulsing as the feel of Loran's hands on the fat of your hips seems multiplied, your mind filled with goo. The rustle of fabric falling to the ground barely registers before his thick cock presses into your pussy, hands guiding your hips onto him. Warmth trickles onto your pulsing cunt, his saliva lubing where you connect. You clench around him, emitting obscene moans.

He delves deeper, your snugness yielding to his thick, heavy cock. You swear you can feel every pulsating vein, every ridge of him inside of you. You whimper and whine when he fucks half of his big cock into your tiny little hole, and you thrash and let out small mewls of pleasure. "Mmph, Lor--!! it won't fit!" you whimper amidst sobs.

"Hm?" He utters, his voice a low hum, as he observes with rapt attention as you stretch around his green, monstrous cock. The pressure within your abdomen steadily intensifies, inch by inch, until Loran thrusts in the last couple of inches, his large balls flush against your engorged clit. You're already fucked stupid, pupils blown, and moans strewing from your lips. The Orc takes hold of your hand, guiding it towards your stomach, allowing you to feel the undeniable presence of his shaft protruding from your belly. "Do you feel me? Feel my cock in your insides, my little human?"

With a forceful motion, he retreats, then thrusts forcefully into you, his grip tightening on your hair as he pulls. A fervent moan escapes your lips, as the resounding collision of his hips against your ass fills the air, the only thing you can hear. The wet squelching of your arousal intermingles with his precum, cascading onto the opulent furs beneath you. His name becomes a sacred mantra, slipping from your tongue like a fervent prayer. "S'good, m'gunna cum, let me cum, please, please."

With a gentle caress, Loran's hand ascends your stomach, pinching your sensitive nipples. You mewl, back arching as you clench and pulse around his thick length, cumming harder than before, a wave of darkness gently tinting your vision. A low, guttural moan reverberates from deep within you, harmonizing with Loran's unyielding thrusts. “That's a good fuckin’ girl.”

The Orc's hand comes down on your ass, observing the quivering flesh. Your violated hole trembles around Loran's thick length, and he snickers, his hips stuttering. "You're mine. Hm? Do you understand, pet?" His thrusts became more profound, faster, not giving you rest, groaning as you nod quickly, whimpering.

You turn your gaze towards him, his fingers constricting in your tresses. "Loran, want you to cum inside me, please." Your feeble arms emerge from beneath your form, delicate hands reaching to spread your pussy wider. "You will, right?"

Your wanton plea hurls the massive Orc over the brink. Loran's hips slam into yours once more as his scorching cum coats your walls; the copious amount of it had you cumming once more. Loran continues to pump his seed into you, his cock still hard and balls full of cum. He longed to see you swollen with his offspring; he wouldn't stop until he knew you were trapped with him.

You are not permitted to rest until the early morning, curled against his chest with his seed leaking from your stretched opening. Your body is tender, marked with bruises on your neck and chest. Loran places his large hand on your cheek; although he is running late for the meeting, he decides to allow you more time to sleep.

He lifts you gently, thankful that he has cleaned you up and changed the bedding. You snuggle into his warmth, almost convincing him to delay for another hour. "My zemar, it's time to wake up. We must rise before the sun sets." (my heart)

Stirring in his arms, your eyelashes flutter before you slowly open your bleary eyes. Attempting to close them once more, his hearty chuckle resonates, partially rousing you. Placing you gently on the bed, he drapes one of his shirts over you, guiding your arms through the sleeves. Loran picks you up again, cradling you as he carries you out of the tent, shielding your eyes from the glaring sun. The short walk to the other side of the campsite goes unnoticed by you.

He arrives promptly, his raven perched gracefully on its stand. A soft whistle escapes his lips, a signal for the bird to gather the troops. Loran takes his place at the head of the table, positioning you to face him, your legs wrapped around his waist. With spit on his fingers, he traces circles around your cunt, pleased that it had returned to its original state, tight and warm. After lubricating your entrance, he spits on his palm and wraps his member in a firm grip, ensuring that it's slick.

Loran aligns himself with your little hole and eases inside, emitting a deep groan at the vice grip; you let out a sleepy moan, tightening around him. His large hands grip the fat of your hips, guiding you down the rest of his thick length. He pulls his shirt over your ass, concealing where his cock is nestled inside of you.

He has to stop himself from fucking you on the table in front of all his tribe members. Once he had you in the perfect position, his soldiers began to file into the room. He couldn't help but notice how your warm, tight hole was becoming slick. Unbeknownst to you, his thick cock was already buried deep within you.

The meeting unfolds seamlessly. With nightfall as their ally, they conspire to dismantle the impenetrable walls of the Kingdom on the morrow. A sacred covenant governs The Mammoth Clan, dictating that the fairer sex and the innocent offspring shall be spared from any affliction. Thus, the innocent shall be granted mercy and protection.

Awakening towards the end, your pussy pulsating and enveloping something thick and long. A twitching motion stirs inside you, nudging your G-spot. A soft moan escapes your lips as you hide your face in his neck. Loran dismisses it as your mere awakening, soothingly caressing your back. Only a fool would miss the evidence of your arousal - the glistening juices trickling down your bare thighs and the hint of green meeting a clenching hole

" Dismissed. "

The orcs file out of the room, speaking amongst each other. Loran's gaze descends upon your petite frame, concealed beneath his garments. He looks feral. Once the auditory commotion subsides, you cautiously lift your head, locking eyes with his penetrating stare.

"Loran, please."

The Orc emits a deep snarl, his lips forcefully meeting yours as he firmly grasps the flesh of your hips, hoisting you off his slick member. Swiftly, he plunges you back down, thrusting into you with fervor, fucking you onto him. You're moaning mess, the spit from your sloppy kiss sliding down your chin and eyes rolling to the back of your head. The sound of wet slapping resonates loudly within the confines of the tent. With a gasp for air, you disengage from him, your hands finding solace on his broad shoulders.

A particular thrust causes the swollen, mushroom-shaped tip of his cock to abuse your g-spot and your moan is shrill. You climax, your body trembling around him, leaving a creamy, ivory ring at the base of his cock. Stars burst in your vision as you weakly press your lips against his throat, whimpering as he continues to thrust into you, your sensitive and throbbing core tender. " Lor-.. no more.. s’too.. much!" you sputter, sloppily pressing your lips to his and sucking on his large tongue.

Despite the roughness of his hips snapping into yours, he caresses your sides softly and pulls away from your kiss, licking his lips. "Be a good pet, hm? Let me use my pussy, can you do that for me? " You nod hesitantly, and he smiles, sending your stomach to unfurl languidly. "S'my good girl." You bury your face in his neck with a whimper, but when your blunt little teeth sink into his collarbone it pushes him over the edge; and he stands up with you still bouncing on his cock, thrusting so deeply that you hiss. Ropes of cum paint your pulsing walls, filling you up.

Loran's shallow thrusts ensure not a single drop is wasted as you envelop him in your embrace, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply.

Mayhap, the circumstance of being dispatched to this place was not as grievous as first imagined...

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neoplatinum · 1 month ago

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save a horse, ride a cowgirl | sophia laforteza

synopsis: the wife you never wanted to see again has re-appeared like a phantom, with nothing else but "let's get a divorce". you have more than a couple words to say to that effect.

pairing: (ex-ish) wife!sophia x cowgirl!reader

tags: angst, slow-burn, fluff, smut, g!p reader (don't like, don't read), tension, marriage troubles, guns (no one dies!), cheating but also not really cheating, slight religious themes, cowboys/cowgirls, a-list-celebrity!sophia, more...

wc: 14.5k

"you'll probably leave later, anyway it's love made in the usa"

(part 2)

it was on a tuesday.

up by 5am, ready to get the daily chores moving. bold strides across your bedroom, feeling the hardwood creak under your feet as you cross into the bathroom. you give yourself a once over as you brush your teeth. the soreness from your daily activities wears into your body.

loose hair falling over your brows as you wash your face. the water trickling through your hands, and a little wax to keep your hair back.

afterwards, you’re whistling to yourself, light tunes that keep you in motion as you slide on the long thick denim pants, holster on the right side, and boots that have worn in over the years.

your favorite black leather pair.

there’s nothing more serene than being in the quiet, the soft sounds of animals, and the wind blowing at the windchimes.

and soon you’re out the door, chewing on a stick. taking a long view of the most gorgeous yellows and oranges peering just over the horizon, lifting slowly into the sky.

signaling yet another day on this planet.

and with the click of the heel you’re headed down to the barn. stride in pace with the snapping of your fingers.

you can already see charlie in the distance, curled up next to the barn. soft breathing as his ears twitch.

you let out a whistle as you approach. and charlie has shot up like a lightning bolt. eyes alert and ears forward. the cattle dog making a mad dash for you when he spots you in the distance.

he halts to a quick stop and sits in front of you, panting loudly.

“good boy, let’s get our day started.” you give him some pets as you continue to travel down the graveled path. he lets out a loud bark and runs for the chicken coop.

the chickens are clucking loudly, already rounding towards the fence.

they know the drill, the sight of you in the early morning means feeding, and they’re happily clucking.

you unlatch the small door to the coop, reaching inside for a couple of eggs, and dropping them into a basket. you quietly fill the buckets of chicken feed, checking the troughs thoroughly and then closing the gate behind you, the basket full of eggs bouncing against your leg as you leave it on a crate.

you’re rounding the back to fill their pots with fresh water when you hear charlie.

your head perks up and you stride towards the sound. it's the loud kind of bark that hits you in the chest. sound rattling your body as he growls at something in the distance.

your eyes following a dust trail that reveals a big car. one that’s unfamiliar, and one that definitely does not belong on these paths.

the dust from the ground is forming a cloud. shielding it until it comes to a stop by the entrance of your ranch.

a big shiny grey suburban parks right out front.

“this can’t be any good, charlie.” you’re walking towards the car, listening to the heels click as you try and look into the car.

it’s tinted and the dust cloud is settling.

you get close enough before you shout.

“good morning, anything i can help you with?” there’s no movement. and you’re tempted to kick one of the headlights out.

“this is private property, if you have no business here, then leave.” you shout again, hand clutching your belt buckle.

charlie’s eyes are wide and he’s drooling, ready to attack at a moment’s call. he continues to bark until you pet him, and he stills. unlike him, you continue to tap your feet until you notice a movement.

one of the side doors opens, a tall man fitted in a black suit starts to approach you. sunglasses pressed up the bridge of his nose and without a smile to match.

“hello sir, are you lost?” you ask, and he’s got something in his hand. a manila folder that he hands to you, no further words.

you look at him a little puzzled, grabbing the folder and opening to the sight of:

STATE OF NEW MEXICO

DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE WITHOUT CHILDREN.

and right there at the bottom of the page is that signature, the same one that you were smiling at years ago when you were getting married.

sophia laforteza wants a divorce.

you continue to stare at the papers, eyes already a bit blurry, the resounding thumping of your heart hitting your ears and all you can hear is the panic that ensues in your own body. it’s getting harder to breathe calmly.

you’re feeling the pressure hit your head, until you let out a shaky breath.

then you rip it to shreds, all of it. all the mentions of a divorce, you tear it right in his face. pieces of paper flying all over the ground. either for him or for yourself: the reminder that sophia signed this doesn’t exist anymore.

he doesn’t make any movements, face as stoic as he came.

“don’t ever come by here again.” you say slowly at him. he doesn’t move or respond.

“did you hear me? or are you deaf?”

he’s quick to draw a gun, but not as quick as you, the barrel already aimed at him, trigger cocked back. and he’s aiming you down with his handgun.

“i’ll slam this bullet right in your family jewels if you don’t leave right now.”

you poke it at his liver, and lower it slowly at his groin. he doesn’t flinch. and now you’re staring into sunglasses that stare back into you. the sun’s shining into your eye, but you keep your hand steady. not missing the way a bead of sweat drips down his forehead.

you’re both standing off from each other, and a door opens from behind him. you peek over his shoulder and wait for someone to show themself. he barely moves an inch and you’re already ready to blow him away.

he tucks his gun away.

returning to the side of the car and lending a hand as someone gets out of the car.

your gun is still aimed at him.

and out she steps.

you swear to yourself that you must be sick, some parasite must have infected your brain functionality, infected your vision, infected the way your eyes are seeing the world.

you blink a couple times, swear that the sun is hitting the figure and refracting the light in such a way that what you see before you cannot be true.

because in the flesh, your not-so-dead-ex-wife sophia is looking at you.

“can you put the gun down? we need to talk.” she sighs.

you let out an long breath, lowering the gun back into your holster.

so much for a relaxing tuesday.

in front of you is a woman you’re too familiar but not familiar enough with. she’s sitting in the home you two built but she doesn’t belong.

she looks even more gorgeous than you remembered. well tamed hair, heavy makeup and a bold lipstick to match. her red bottom heels sticking into the floorboards and earrings that dance in the sunlight.

she doesn’t fit here, at least not anymore. her clothes are too clean, her posture is too straight and you reckon she feels the same way.

“i’m sorry for showing up randomly, but i want a divorce.” she speaks to you gently.

and it’s like listening to a ghost.

one that you’ve already mourned, but here she is in all her glory. bone, flesh and talking to you.

you think about how there’s an empty casket right behind the laforteza’s backyard. how you had to comfort mrs. laforteza for months, her weeping into your arms. the tears are still staining your shirt and your heart.

you remember the long nights with mr. laforteza. working with the county police and even going to the state to locate the very woman in front of you. you remembered the way his eyes went hollow after days of no updates. the way he begged you to bring his daughter back home.

you felt like you failed. you were supposed to protect her, keep her safe. you swore at their feet that the only priority in your life was her, that you married her to help her blossom.

and then she disappeared. like an echo into the night, she disappeared into nothingness. you searched for her day and night. you practically galloped the whole city, searching high and low for her. no one else knew anything either. you talked to every town person, telling them to notify you if there was any news.

you lost sleep, weight, and hope in the process. everyday that she didn’t return, you could feel yourself getting restless. the bags under your eyes grew bigger, your shirts draped over you, you barely could stomach a meal. townspeople would give you pats on the shoulder with that look in their eyes.

so before you is the very woman that you had long held in your heart, not one you were ready to see again, live in the flesh.

you especially remember how you laid down her favorite boots in the casket. headstone in big bold letters “SOPHIA LAFORTEZA”.

“fia, i thought you were dead.” you don’t even lift your head up as you utter the words. your finger fidgeting with others, picking at the nails.

the slow drip of the faucet is the loudest sound in the house. you’re left speechless again.

how is she so pretty?

why does she want a divorce?

why does she not look like fia?

where does she live now?

how is she?

“i’m sorry.” she can’t meet your eyes now, hands clasped together.

she looks harder around the edges.

“i wanted to tell you, but i needed to do this for myself.”

she brushes her hair back, revealing dazzling earrings that are worth more than your ranch.

you’re just begging to reach out, to touch her. to feel her, you can’t even be sure that she exists. your hand nearly reaches out before you grab it with your other hand. you still yourself once more.

“do what?” you ask softly, you’re scared that if you even speak too loud that she’ll vanish, just like she did that night.

“i needed to leave, i needed to chase after my dreams.” she speaks just as gently as you, worried that you’ll be set off. she knows how vulnerable she left you, she might have been better off dead considering how you’re reacting.

“i found hollywood.”

hollywood?

you remember those nights, where sophia would explain to you how she wanted to be an actress, to be under those bright lights, and shine brighter than the stars in the sky.

you recount how she’d often re-enact lines from the movies that you two watched, how she sang to the cows as she worked, and how her eyes sparkled whenever you allowed her one-woman dialogues at the dinner table.

“so what now? you’re a big star actress?” the heat’s starting to build up, the more you listen to this story, the rage is slowly building.

“you could say that, yes i am.” she watches the way you’re rapidly tapping your foot, tucking hairs under your hat like a childish habit.

she’s half tempted to reach out as well, to flip down the collar of your shirt.

the faucet continues to drip.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you were scared of asking this the most, to know that she might not trust you enough to tell you how she wanted to explore her dreams.

in the dead of the night, when you had too much whiskey to remember your name, you would sit on your porch, eyes wandering the moon as you asked into the air all the questions that lived within your head. brimming over with anger or sadness. the biggest question you had was “why?”

“this ranch, the lifestyle that we grew up with, i wanted more. you were always so happy about growing this ranch, and i couldn’t take you away from this life. but i also had to chase my dreams.” she explains slowly.

and you always suspected that she was still alive.

maybe it was a coping mechanism, but you once knew sophia laforteza inside and out.

but it hurts.

it hurts to hear that she considered your side and still left without another word. it hurts in a way that destroys the core of who you are as a person.

“fia, you could’ve talked to me, we’re married for God’s sake!” your eyes are darting around, and you’re out of your seat. it’s not typical of you, but you can’t make sense of anything anymore.

she stares at you with all the sadness that she’s pushed down. the idea that she left behind her spouse. who she swore to their family and under God that she would be there until her last breath.

she can feel the tears starting to well up, it’s all too much, to return to this place that she’s unsure of. unsure where her place is anymore, and it hurts more knowing she’s the reason.

“i thought you were dead!” you seethe. your eyes are angry, eyebrows dropped low, and an accusatory finger aimed straight at her. “we all thought you were dead!”

she’s trying not to let the tears come out, her lips are trembling and so are her hands.

“i fucking mourned you. laforteza.” your tears are still flowing down your face, but you’ve hardly blinked at all. eyes like glacier: chilly and icy.

“do you know that? do you know how hard it was holding your mom in my arms? she was begging me to bring her daughter back. do you fucking know that?”

she stands up suddenly, chair hitting the floor.

the words continue rolling out of your mouth without missing a beat.

“i had to lower an empty casket. in your name, fia! and you come back from the dead. asking me for a damn divorce.” you stride close to her, with every punctuation of word, she steps backwards. until her back hits the kitchen counters.

“forgive me, God. but you. can. go. to. hell.” you push your finger into her chest.

and with that you leave. quick steps bounding for the door, slamming the door wide open.

and running towards the stable. charlie’s quick on your tail. he looks back at sophia once, then turns to chase after you. the tears are sliding off your cheeks, angry tears that stain your skin, reminding you just how much she can still affect you.

in five breaths, you’re riding your house out the ranch, disappearing into nowhere.

you don’t even know how long you’ve been riding buckeye. just the feeling of hoofs clacking against the road, and charlie panting beside you.

you remember crying into your shirt, all but a snotty mess. you’ve barely processed sophia’s death, and now she’s come back to life. treating you like you’re a pair of car keys that she left behind, not worthy enough to peer into her soul.

you remember screaming into the night, screaming how much you hated her. hated the way your heart still beat for her. as if she didn’t crush yours, as if you meant anything to her.

you remember the way she still gently walked over that part of the floorboards, the soft spot in the corner of the floor. the way she sat in her seat, the very same one you made for her as a gift.

you’re slow to return to the ranch, buckeye’s slow clopping on the ground still present.

knowing sophia, she probably left. she knows better to try and talk to you now. even after you’ve cooled off, you’ve always taken longer to come to terms of talking through things.

so you slide off buckeye’s saddle and give him some extra carrots for the sudden ride. he’s nudging into you, as if he senses the sadness that emanates from your body.

“i’m okay buckeye, thank you for today.” you give him some more scratches and lock him in his stable.

returning to the house with charlie at your side, he’s whining a bit as he walks against your leg. you give him some scratches too, leaning into your hand with quick tail swishes.

he’s sniffing around the house, nose leading him into the house, and he waits patiently at the door. it’s closed. you slowly turn the doorknob, hoping that sophia’s gone.

you don’t know what you would say to her now. the last thing you need after the exhaustion is to try and bring up discussing the divorce again.

and she’s gone, almost like she never even showed up.

except she leaves a note, a short message.

i’ll be back tomorrow. please, let’s talk this out.

-love, sophia

underneath there’s a bowl of your favorite meal, saran wrapped and steam hitting the surface. the same one she would make for you. and you sink into the chair. eyes are getting blurry again as you nearly crumple the sticky note.

so you didn’t imagine her. she was here.

the conversation was real, and she wants a divorce.

you slowly dig into the bowl of food in front of you, and it’s like you’re twenty again. coming back from a long day of work, exhaustion set into your bones. but enough to crack a smile for sophia. as she would hand you a bowl of your favorite meal. dropping into the chair as you two recounted your day, happily scraping the bowl until mere lines of gravy were left. you remember the way her hair would be tied back, strands falling to frame her gorgeous face. kissing her in between bites when she was rambling.

do you even remember the taste of her lips?

you cry into your bowl, tears streaming into your food as you ate it, a reminder of who she once was for you. you smile as the tears fall, savoring the way it still lit up your tastebuds.

you would destroy your body for years if it meant being able to eat this dish until your last breath.

you set the bowl into the sink, letting the faucet slowly drip into the bowl. washing away the reminder of her presence. letting only the soft glow of the moonlight illuminate the kitchen, as every second goes by and more droplets fill the bowl, you let out a final breath and trudge upstairs to fall into your bed.

tomorrow you would take care of everything, but tonight you let yourself be haunted by shiny brown eyes that have kept your soul captive for as long as you lived.

on the other side of town, sophia’s finally calmed herself from the explosive interaction that was meeting you after years of disappearing.

she knew what she did was wrong, but her fuel to become a star was greater.

she remembers that night like a haunting dream. she left with kisses to your face, to remember them in her heart. the way you held onto her like she was home.

and she swore her heart cracked a little more with every kiss, the way your face looked so calm in your sleep. she brushed your hair for hours, admiring every little feature of yours. and then she left in the middle of the night, hoping to make a name for herself, leaving behind her old life.

leaving you behind.

she also regretted how she left her parents, she knew it would break their hearts. so not only did she tear yours to shreds, now she needed to mend their hearts.

approaching the steps to their house was just as tough as she thought, each step weighing on her feet. the porch light was on, and she could see figures within the house. she hadn’t even prepared what to say to them, her family that she left behind.

and then she knocked on the door. the seconds felt like forever, but she heard the footsteps. the way the floorboards creaked behind the door. then it opened, and she was flooded with the smell of her mom’s cooking. of soup and the smell of wood, the same warm glow from the kitchen light. and the sight of her dad behind the door.

“sophie, is that you?”

her dad’s gotten older, more white hairs in his hair. his skin looks rougher but his voice still has that gruff low timbre. he has on his light brown cowboy hat, and then sophia’s mom steps into frame.

“hi dad, it’s me.” and then sophia’s pulled into a bone-crushing hug, her dad hugging the air out of her.

“sophie? jesus come here.” and her mom’s pulling her out of his embrace. hands trembling as she holds her daughter’s own face. her mom’s crying, the vision breaking her heart instantly.

she has never seen her mom cry before, not even when she had lost her own parents. her mother holds her head softly before pulling her into a hug. and her mom still smells the same, of lavender and herbs.

it’s like she’s six years old, coming back with scrapes on her knees and loud wails.

her dad encloses all of them as he hugs them as well, thankful to have his very alive daughter in his arms once more. his prayers have been heard.

“sophia, where have you been?” her dad’s voice comes out soft and confused. sophia wipes her tears away and pulls away from them. the sadness from their faces seared into her mind.

“let’s sit down, i have a lot of explaining to do.” sophia explains, and her parents share a look.

sophia stares at the headstone, a little worn down but the flowers are fresh. she has yet to figure out how she feels about her name being splayed across the top.

in memory of a loving daughter, sister, and wife.

the light blows of the wind pushes hair into her face.

she doesn’t know what’s worse: being known as dead but being alive, or being truly dead?

she could feel her heart breaking at the idea of you burying an empty casket of hers. she notices the empty headstone right next to hers. it’s a chilling reminder that you would’ve been buried next to her. until death were you meant to part. she can’t bear the idea and turns away, walking back towards her parent’s ranch.

the conversation between her and her dad had gone sour. he grew angry with her, not understanding why she left.

after he went quiet and left for his room, her mother stayed behind and they talked for hours. about sophia’s current life: all the red carpet events, the glamor, the paparazzi and how she felt coming back.

then she asked sophia how she felt about coming back to you.

and then sophia broke down all over again, she regretted leaving you the most. you were happy with sophia, you loved life on the ranch and you loved her.

sophia loved you but she didn’t love life on the ranch. she enjoyed the tranquility that came with this life, enjoyed nights alone with you under the dark skies and how you were so charming.

she kept breaking her own heart by chasing her own dreams, she could smile at all the accolades on the walls, the way people swarmed her for autographs. all the brand promotions and award shows.

but when she went home, she felt the loneliness of living by herself, a huge mansion to herself and the recognition of the masses, but when the night gets too loud, she wishes she were in your arms. in your a-bit-too small bed and the sounds of the wind hitting the house.

she wished for you with her.

and she searched for you in places that were safe: her co-stars, random athletes, and singers.

all of which couldn’t make her feel the same way at night, she doesn’t want to trace their skin. she didn’t want to embed herself into their souls. she doesn’t stay for long in relationships, something miniscule always sets her off, and then she pulls away. she knows who still has her heart all these years, and she’s lost herself in a facade of quick intimacy.

she long gave up on trying to rekindle your relationship. she didn’t know where she stood anymore with you, whether you would throw her out the second she arrived. or would you welcome her with open arms. which was definitely wishful thinking on her part.

but she needs this divorce, she needs to set you free. and set her own heart free. to be free from the haunting reminder that she once had you in her arms. had you so close and tossed it for her dreams. a sacrifice that she’s still not sure if she regrets to this day.

all she regrets is how she left.

her mom gives her a look when sophia mentioned getting a divorce from you, it’s the same look she gave sophia when she came back drunk in the dead of the night when she was a teen. the same look of worry when she disappeared for three days after a long argument with her dad.

it’s the very same look that speaks,

i don’t agree with what you’re doing, but this is your life.

she pokes and prods into sophia’s mind, wondering why she would come back for a divorce. when she replies, sophia’s mom gives her a quiet nod, not one laced with approval but one that shows understanding, and maybe one of pity.

maybe sophia’s lost sight of her dream, and who she wants it with.

she doesn’t want to confront the ugly truth, one that would leave her vulnerable, and maybe without you in the end.

she makes her way over to your ranch with conflicting thoughts in her mind.

you’re busy cleaning the stables when she arrives. the first thing you notice is that she’s wearing her old clothes, the same red flannel you bought her when you were 18. your eyes see the poor patch job you did to the right sleeve.

the second thing you notice is that she’s forgone wearing her tall heels. wearing old boots, making her shorter like you remember. it pulls you back to fond memories, taking on the daily tasks and laughing at charlie trying to round up all the chickens.

you put the brush away, and stare at her. she hasn’t said a word since she stepped in. and you’re already feeling ready to leave.

you take a couple steps out the stable, when sophia catches hold of your arm.

“please, can we talk this out?” she’s pleading with you, and you’re already ready to let your guard down, but the hurt rises in your chest.

“i don’t want a divorce, fia.” you say.

she makes the mistake of looking at you and it’s like she’s 19 again, staring into gorgeous eyes that made her swoon. and she doesn’t know why she’s asking for a divorce anymore.

she’s always liked you with your cowboy hat on.

“i understand, but it’s either you sign this now, or we wait for the divorce to default.” she explains, and you’re already grabbing a saddle, sliding it onto buckeye.

you turn around, facing her with anger in your eyes.

“fia, you won’t even tell me why, and you come here after years of disappearing and expect me to click my feet together and sign divorce papers. you must be out of your damn mind.”

you’re prepping buckeye to go out for a ride, when you notice her slide a saddle onto honey.

great, she’s not letting up.

“i’m headed to the general store.” you say reluctantly.

and she nods.

you head out, buckeye trotting and whining as he walks out the ranch. you don’t have to look over to know sophia’s following behind you, honey happy to have her favorite rider back.

charlie’s also warmed up to sophia too, once he smelled her enough and recognized her. he walks beside honey, tail swishing lowly, watching sophia every so often. maybe you aren’t the only one that’s missed her.

it feels like everyone’s rushing to welcome her with open arms, but you’re off-kilter.

you let out a breath when she’s picked up the pace. both of you are riding towards the town. you still needed to tend to the ranch, despite sophia’s insistence on begging for a divorce.

she lets the topic of the divorce go, as you make it into town together.

it hasn’t been like this in years. watching your back as you ride, the familiar swish of the tail from buckeye. or charlie sniffing happily along the trail. reminding herself of her discarded life.

her heart is cracking at how disjointed this all feels. stuck between a path of two lives that she’s tried so hard to separate. she’s not too sure if she wants to sacrifice you anymore.

maybe she’s selfish, maybe she wants everything and more. she wants to be greedy.

you hook your horse onto a fence, instinctively you hook sophia’s horse to the fence too.

she doesn’t point it out, but a small smile stretches her face.

and soon you’re entering the general store.

“sophia? is that you, honey?” mrs. teller races around the desk. pulling sophia into a tight hug and shaking her a bit.

you wander off the aisles of the store, knowing mrs. teller would talk sophia’s ears off. picking up some rope along the way, taking your time. you can still hear the two catching up, and in between rows you watch them.

sophia’s smiles are still warm.

you grab some nails and head to the counter.

“are you back, dear? for good?” in the hopeful tone that you’d expect from your grandma. sophia breaks her heart again, shaking her head no.

mrs. teller pats sophia’s hand and all she can feel is guilt. she left behind a community that watched her grow up. townsfolk that looked after her at almost every stage of her life.

she gets lost in her thoughts, until the sight of you buying rope and nails moves into her field of view.

“mrs. teller, did you get those shipments of horse feed? i placed an order with mr. teller last week.” you’re fishing out money from your wallet when sophia steps in. placing bills in mrs. teller’s hand before you could take it back.

“yes dear, it’ll be in tomorrow!” she shuts the register. “bring charlie around the house, the grandkids love playing fetch.” mrs.teller giggles to herself watching how you two are arguing over sophia’s gesture.

“sure can, thanks again mrs. teller. have a lovely day ma’am.” you lift your head to bow at her. you’re grabbing the merchandise and heading out with sophia hot on your tail. “fia, i could pay for that myself.”

you both don’t see it, but mrs. teller is smiling at the sight.

“i know you can pay for it, i simply wanted to.” she explains, grabbing onto honey and mounting onto the horse.

maybe you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. maybe it’s the way you hate her paying for you, but it’s upsetting. it erupts in annoyance.

“fia, go back to hollywood, i won’t sign those divorce papers.” you say to her, and her smile from that interaction in the shop has dropped.

you’re no fool and frankly it’s insulting for her to think a small gesture would change your mind on something as big as divorce.

“i can’t. i need that divorce.” she stares at you with desperation in her eyes, there’s something hidden, she’s not telling you everything.

“why?” you ask.

“i can’t tell you.” she offers, and it’s honest. she can’t explain the deals she’s made, how she’s under the strings of a puppeteer.

and she wants to save you, save the last bit of happiness she can give you, setting you free from her.

you swallow the heaviness that sets in your chest.

“you want to get rid of me that bad?” you ask. she doesn’t say anything, but her eyes are getting watery.

she thinks about the vows she wrote and said to you, to her parents, to everyone here. she’s betraying everyone and her own desires.

you take the silence as a sign.

“30 days. give me 30 days of your time, fia. then we’ll go our separate ways.”

she has nothing to say to you.

wasn’t this what she wanted?

you don’t know it but you break two hearts.

you turn around, not wanting to look at her. you tuck your hat a little lower, just enough to shield your eyes. shielding them from welling up, you’re signing away a life that you promised under God that you would protect.

you give a tap to buckeye and you’re riding out of town.

sophia taps honey and follows you.

the silence consumes you both on the ride back. and you’re both thankful for that.

in a week’s time, sophia’s back at the ranch. gone is the heavy makeup and opulence from when she first showed up. she looks younger like this, softer eyes and you’re reminded just how beautiful your wife is.

over the past week you’ve been preparing for sophia to be back. you thought about why you even offered that deal, maybe a part of you likes the pain, or is trying to prolong what’s inevitable. or maybe you’re too much of a coward to let things go.

whatever the reason may be, you had your wife back. and for the solace of a month, she was yours as well.

sophia’s out in the front, playing with charlie who hasn’t left her side since she’s arrived. the first thing you told her when she returned was how charlie kept whining and pawing at the door when sophia left.

you want to welcome her like charlie can, but touching her feels like ripping your heart further. opening the old wounds you tried so hard to mend close.

you walk towards her, basket in hand and pass it to her.

“chicken duty, let’s go.” you start walking down the path to the chicken coop and sophia’s still playing with charlie.

she watches you as she plays with charlie.

she hates that you’re so distant but so close. each time you pull away, she wishes it was just all a terrible nightmare she could wake up from. hates that she has to ask for this divorce and is devastated that you agreed.

inside her there’s a war of want and need for safety. some days she thinks about running away from all her responsibilities, and just drift into a fantasy land with you. but she knows this mess was one that she created, and you didn’t ask for this.

she watches the way you move through farmwork like you could do it blind. she’s a bit rusty and as she grabs one of the chickens, she nearly falls over when it escapes from her grasp.

“easy, laforteza.” you’re holding her steady, strong arms that keep her from falling over.

you give her a smirk and let her go.

“i’m fine.” she brushes herself off.

“a thanks would be nice.” you scoff and sophia’s ready to argue with you.

“thanks? you act like you saved the world.” sophia’s trying to get a rise out of you.

“saved your pretty ass from falling into chicken shit.” you reply. watching the way sophia’s face heats up.

“whatever.” sophia storms off, chasing after the chicken that’s escaped her grasp.

the smile on your face doesn’t leave your face the whole day.

not even when you’re having the worst time rounding up the cows. and charlie’s chewed up another sock of yours. you don’t even complain when sophia’s eaten the strawberries that you were saving up for dinner.

you have half the mind to feed one to her.

one night curiosity bites you in the ass. you’re too curious for your own good.

spending years asking God to bring you the answers you were longing for. you ask her about it during dinner, when you two have already grown a little more comfortable with each other.

“so, did you make it?” you ask her, chewing a piece of beef slowly. “did you make your dreams come true?”

she slows her fork, setting it down on the plate with a clank. she smiles wider, and your heart warms.

“i made it, someday i’ll fly you out to one of my premieres.” sophia starts, a sparkle in her eyes that glow brighter than the night stars.

“i’m being called left and right for roles, and they want me to be apart of this major franchise soon.”

as she talks about the accolades, the way her eyes brighten and shine, you realize you couldn’t take this from her even if you wanted to. she shined so bright, and who were you to hold her back.

you continue to bite into your food, letting her take over the conversation.

it seems you no longer know sophia, you don’t know her friends, her interests, her sense of style.

all you have are old fragments of what once was.

“i’m glad you achieved your dreams, fia. genuinely.” it pained you, but it was true. you were genuinely happy for her.

“what about you?” she’s curious.

“what about me?” you questioned back.

“did you achieve your dreams?”

“no.”

you shift your feet a bit, the floor boards creaking. sophia is understanding, but you’re not painting the full picture for her.

“it’s okay, you can keep trying.” she offers, there’s kindness in her voice.

you don’t have the heart to tell her that this divorce will crush your dreams.

“thanks, fia.” you stare out, she’s chipping at the walls that you’ve concealed.

there’s something to it, the sadness that hangs in the air. how you never fully say what you want.

it makes her skin crawl, no longer does she bear the secrets to your heart. you’ve long thrown the key away when you lowered the casket in her name.

she doesn’t mistake how you’re unable to look at her. she wants the obsessed version of you back. how devoted and caring you once were.

she figures she lost that privilege when she disappeared from you. she grabs both her and your plate and begins washing the dishes. you get up with a sigh.

“need a hand with that?” you grab a dishtowel. holding a hand out as she passes cleaned utensils for you to wipe off. she feels more at home than she’s felt in months. nights of partying and meetings with co-stars and agents has left her soul feeling more than isolated.

but in this small house, with a few too many creaky floorboards, and a leaky faucet, she misses how simple this life is.

of course her passion still lies in acting, but she’s not sure how much she wants that without you.

the next afternoon, the laforteza’s visit came unexpectedly. you spot mr and mrs. laforteza with wide smiles and a truck filled with gifts as they roll into the ranch. mr. laforteza gives you a hug that makes you want to cry.

sophia’s parents know this divorce is not what you wanted.

but they also know that you would prioritize sophia’s happiness over anything. it’s why they were so accepting of you marrying their only daughter.

“mr. laforteza, it’s great to see you too.” you pull away from him, and he gives you a shoulder pat before walking towards sophia. he doesn’t have to say much to convey how he feels about you.

both her parents seem so happy to have her daughter back. you want to feel the same, but the history between you two is entangled like vines. to unravel each branch might just tear you two apart.

so instead, you help unload the truck filled with gifts of horse feed when sophia comes up to you.

“hey, did you know they were visiting today?” she asks, grabbing a bag of horse feed off the truck bed. you stack another bag onto the pile.

shaking your head, “no, i figured you asked them to visit.”

she shakes her head too. “i didn’t.”

mrs. laforteza is happily walking into your house, charlie wagging his tail happily as he follows her. clearly he has a favorite human.

you walk in after her, looking at her taking groceries out of a bag.

there’s a silence that envelops you both.

“you look too skinny.” mrs. laforteza says as she takes out a pot, filling it with water. “and you look sad…are you sad?”

she has a knowing smile on her face as she watches you. you lean against the fridge, and contemplate the question.

are you sad?

this past week with sophia has been revealing how much you missed your wife. the instinctual habits that you forgot you had are coming back to light. when you always scoop her helping of food first. how you always leave the left side of the couch for her to sit on. how you always tuck your boots next to hers. it’s a familiarity that you want to relish in. but in less than a month’s time she’ll never be yours again.

so maybe you are sad, maybe you’re devastated that you’ve betrayed your wants in favor of giving sophia what she wants. maybe you’re losing yourself by giving it all to sophia.

“i’m not sure what i am anymore.” you reply.

she can feel how lost you are. from having sophia come back after years of mourning her disappearance. she feels for you. as if you were her own. and her daughter wants a divorce. she still doesn’t understand why and it’s the elephant in the room.

“honey, you don’t want this divorce. what made you agree?” she turns off the faucet. you reach over to place the pot onto the stove.

she smiles at the gesture.

“i don’t want sophia to feel trapped with me, and it’s clear she left without telling me for a reason.” you explain even though it’s cracking your heart. her mom gives you a light pat on the cheek and shakes her head.

“that girl has never stopped from loving you. i know her. this is killing her as much as it’s killing you.”

you want to believe that, truly you do. but you have a heart to protect too. are you going to be a fool and let it be torn all apart again?

“then why is she doing this?” you’re tired of hearing how sophia still wants you from other people. it hurts more.

“i don’t know why either, dear.” she speaks gently to you.

you stare out the kitchen window, watching sophia’s dad talk to sophia. you can’t hear what he’s saying to her, but she’s listening intently, and at one point she turns to look at you.

feeling caught, you avert your gaze.

but she watches you, eyes trying to commit you to memory.

it’s later at dinner, when you and the laforteza’s are eating together. laughter loudly echoing around the house that you forget that you’re about to be divorced.

you bathe in the happiness that emanates throughout the night. mr. laforteza retelling stories of how he courted mrs. laforteza. with eyerolls from his wife and sophia hanging on his every word.

charlie’s seated right by sophia, curled into himself as his tail wags slowly.

this is what you envisioned your home to be. to be warm and filled with life, and eventually down the line you wanted kids. wanted to create your own family with sophia. to have her parents come down to babysit the grandkids and play with them.

for charlie to have another person to play catch with.

you don’t even notice the tear that rolls down your face. it stains your jeans as it free falls. you continue to laugh along with a funny joke that mrs. laforteza has said.

sophia’s eyes notice it immediately, reaching out to cup your face.

the laforteza’s share a look with each other.

“are you okay?” sophia’s using her sleeve to wipe it off.

“oh, yeah, yeah i’m good.” you snap out of your daze, feeling the way sophia’s eyes are filled with worry. the way she lightly dabs at your cheeks. and it feels too much like home.

“well, we ought to get out of your hair, it’s getting late.” mr. laforteza stands up, brushing off his pants and sliding on his cowboy hat. ms. laforteza stands up as well, a warm smile adorning her face as she follows him out.

you and sophia stand up, wishing them on their safe travels. you watch them as they go out the ranch, until you can’t see their tail lights anymore. maybe in a distant world, you get to have everything. the big family dinners filled with laughter and excited screams from kids. but reality is always more grim than fantasy.

you let out a sigh and turn around, sophia is silently waiting for you.

“come on, let’s go to bed.” she says, hand open for you to take.

your finger twitches. you nearly step forward.

“i was going to take the couch.” you say a bit too quietly. this whole time that sophia’s been here, you’ve been sleeping on the couch, offering the bed to her. she doesn’t tell you how it breaks her heart that you don’t follow her every night.

“let’s go to bed.”

she shakes her hand a bit. in turn, you scratch your neck a bit, and take a step towards her. hand slipping right into hers like a glove.

she smiles at it. lifting your intertwined hands as she places a gentle kiss on your hand.

you don’t know it, but when you’re long asleep. the sensation of sophia tracing every ridge and dip of your face, your nose bridge, your cheekbones, your jaw. she’s found an angel on earth and you’re laying next to her. she slides closer to you, giving you gentle kisses on your face.

she wants to cry all over again, how cruel it is to leave you again. she closes her eyes once she feels that she’s left parts of her soul on you, covering your skin with her love.

it’s unspoken but you don’t take the couch ever again.

the next week you’re arriving at the rodeo in one of your cleaner shirts, a darker cowboy hat that you saved for special occasions. sophia’s by your side.

you initially were planning on going by yourself, but when sophia heard you mention it in passing, she invited herself.

so she’s wearing her best denim jacket with her hair styled up in a ponytail. makeup enhancing her gorgeous eyes and glossy lips to pair. she caught you staring at her getting ready, held under her trance. maybe she wanted to give you a show, maybe she took extra long getting ready, knowing your attention was stuck on her.

you enter the large barn, seeing crowds of people surrounding the fenced in rodeo. there’s an experienced rider on top of a wild bull. shouts and whistles being thrown around, and the sounds of bells clinking all around. this was going to be a good night, you could feel it in your bones.

you begin walking towards the fences, when sophia pulls you back.

“can you get us some drinks?” she asks sweetly, using that smile that makes you weak in the knees.

“of course, fia, two beers?” she gives you a nod and you’re bound for the bar. it’s filled with older cowboys and cowgirls. one of them tips their hat to you, in which you do the same. he helps signal over a bartender for you.

you’re walking back to sophia with two drinks in hand, excited to watch some real bull riding and wanting to enjoy a night with sophia. when you notice the crowd surrounding her. there’s cameras in her face, and people shoving papers into her hand.

you push past some people, trying your best to reach your wife, when you hear the shouts from the crowd.

“sophia! i love you!” a man shouts.

“you’re sophia laforteza!” a woman shouts.

“can i get your autograph? please, it’s for my daughter!” another woman shouts at your wife.

you finally push through the bodies and find your wife looking cornered, the encroaching crowd pushing her into the fence. within a couple steps you wrap your arm around her. pulling her out of the crowd.

“please, give her some space!” you shout at everyone. a couple of the cowboys recognizing you and pushing the crowd away. giving you a tip of their hats when the majority of the crowd disperses.

you’re thankful for the help, but you hadn’t anticipated sophia to be recognized here.

“i got your beer.” you slide the cold bottle into her hand and she nods. she’s tapping her feet rhythmically. grabbing a hold of your arm and sliding her arm through.

“thanks, for back there.” she says, placing a kiss on your cheek.

your face heating up at the affection.

“you’re welcome, fia.” you say. “does that happen often?”

you signal your hand. gesturing at the commotion that was. the only celebrity that you’ve come close to is the town mayor and his family, but even then it’s mostly to badger him for public works.

you’ve never seen a real-life swarm of people asking for autographs.

“hm? oh, all the time. i mean i can’t even walk down the street without bodyguards sometimes.” sophia’s speaks about it casually. to be known and approached by the masses for the recognition of your talent. you don’t know if you could stomach that life.

“do you miss it?” you ask into the air, but there’s more to it. you want to know if she misses her life in hollywood, the one she chose over you.

she shakes the beer bottle a bit. you don’t even realize you are holding your breath. waiting for the second shoe to drop.

“i miss the human interactions, when people would tell me how inspired they are by my acting. how it made them want to go into acting themselves. i don’t miss having camera flashes in my face when i’m trying to go buy groceries or enjoy a lunch outdoors.” she speaks

you listen earnestly. her life feels so foreign to the one you both grew up in.

“sometimes, when life gets too much out there, i rub this necklace and wish i was still back at the ranch. i wish i could have both.” she shows off the necklace that you’ve seen her wear for years, a family heirloom that you’ve never seen her take off.

and with the sound of a bell there’s a new bull rider entering the arena.

loud hollers around the barn echoing as the rider hangs onto the bull firmly. the bull is running around with kicks and swishes of the head to knock him off. but he’s holding firm.

sophia pulls you closer to the other side of the fence. getting a better vantage point of the scene. she makes some comments about how the rider’s pretty good. letting his body move enough to bend to the bull’s movement, but doesn’t let himself tip too far.

maybe you’re fishing for compliments, or maybe you want her attention on you. either way you spout it before you can stop yourself.

“i can do better than that.” you scoff, taking a swig of beer. she raises an eyebrow, taking a sip as well. she hasn’t seen you ride a bull in years, but she remembers how good you once were.

“you still got it, cowgirl?” sophia tempts you.

“damn right, i still got it.” you say, drinking the rest of your beer and walking over to sign yourself up for the competition. sophia watches you. noticing you take a piece of gum out and chewing it.

the same ritual you always had whenever you rode. she stares at your hair under the hat. your eyes surveying the bull that’s trying to buck another rider off. she stares at how you look so damn good under the light.

and then you’re up, loading into the bay with the bull standing by. a couple of people are prepping the bull, sliding on the rope tightly. and you hop onto the bull. gloved hand gripping onto the rope wrapping around the bull. you adjust your hat a bit, and look out for sophia.

she spots you from across the fence, holding herself on one of the bars. waving to you, and you tip your hat to her. signaling this ride is for her.

“you know the rules, cowgirl, stay on for at least 8 seconds,” one of the guys fixing the rope asks you. “you got it?”

you give him a nod and tap the gate. nodding forward and lifting up, the gates open automatically. your bull immediately sending you forward, he bucks and twists his hind legs. trying his best to shake you off. he’s got you spinning like a spin top, using the momentum to throw you off.

you grit yourself. you keep your bottom half of your bottom as close to the bull as possibly. your leg slapping against the side of the bull. the bulls spinning around trying to get you dizzy. you nearly fall off at one point, gripping onto the rope with all your might.

and then you hear the roars, eight seconds are up, and you feel the bull trying to kick you off, his horns getting a bit too close to your head, so you roll off the bull, just narrowly missing it. you roll onto the ground, the dirt covering you entirely.

as you run away from the bull. screams of the crowd cheer you on.

you run right up to sophia, sliding your hat right onto her head, hugging her over the fence. and everyone’s cheering your name. loud chants echoing the arena. more than just qualifying, you’ve put on a performance. everyone is cheering for you but you have your eyes set on sophia.

maybe it’s the beers, maybe it’s the feelings that are swarming in her chest, but she grabs you.

then she’s kissing you and everyone roars.

whistles and hollering in the air as sophia continues kissing you.

the screams drone out and you kiss her back. and for the first time you’ve seen her eyes shine so bright for you.

“you saw me out there, fia?” you shout at her, the loud chants droning out your voice.

“of course i did, you did amazing baby.” she smiles and pulls you into another kiss. and you leap over the fence.

pulling sophia into a hug. still breathing hard from the run. she leans close to you, tucking your hat tighter on her head.

“how do you feel, cowgirl?” sophia asks you. you both walking towards the bar again, needing a refill.

“indescribable.” you say, kissing her temple.

and you reach the bar. several cowboys already offering to buy you drinks. you try waving them off, but then the bartender slides over the drinks to you.

“on the house, courtesy of your bull riding return!” he shouts. “and for sophia’s big return too!”

the cowboys cheered for you too, and you gave them a clink of beer. sophia grabbing a beer and cheering to some of the guys too. the bar continues to be lively into the night, some retired bull riders telling you about their heydays. sophia was welcomed back happily by a couple of cowboys.

your hand doesn’t leave sophia’s the whole night. a gentle rubbing across your knuckles even when she’s talking to someone else. you don’t want the night to end, and neither does she.

you and sophia ride back home, she’s still wearing your hat and holding onto you as buckeye continues clopping on the road.

“and then charlie nearly bites him in the ass!” you shout, the laugh nearly making you double over as you recount the event. sophia’s listening intently, giving you nods of her attention, with her head pressed into your back. relishing in the feeling of your body’s movement.

“we’re home.” you say gently. dismounting buckeye and pulling him into the stable. she watches you, and she has been the whole night, sometimes you caught her too.

“you okay?” you say, letting go of the rope, staring up at her. she looks at you for a moment, memorizing how you look in the moonlight, gorgeous and warm.

“great. help me off?” she says. and you grab onto her, pulling her off the horse and setting her down.

she slides her hand into yours again, and you feel your skin heating up again at the feeling.

she pulls you towards the house, urging you into a run and opening the door eagerly. you’re confused but you don’t question it when she’s sliding off her boots and running up the stairs. you follow quickly after her, opening the door and seeing her in the corner.

she’s fallen into your bed, beckoning you forward, and you obey. reaching close to her when she places the cowboy hat back onto your head. tilting it low enough to her liking. her hands reach for your shirt, sliding up and down the front. it stills at the top button.

“can i?” she asks. and you nod.

she’s unbuttoning your shirt quickly. and she lets her eyes drift up, catching you staring at her with the same want.

she loves how you look on top of her, hat still covering your head, the hottest goddamn cowgirl she’s ever seen.

“hat stays on.” sophia says firmly, removing your shirt. your eyebrow perks up at the admission.

“you have a thing for my hat?”

“i have a thing for you wearing that hat.” she rushes to take off her own shirt, revealing all too gorgeous skin. you reach out, feeling the heat from her skin against yours.

“noted.” you smirk at the way she’s embarrassed.

you slide her shirt off her back, bunching it up and throwing it across the room. you slowly move up the bed, enclosing the space that feels oh so far. she’s moving up too, liking this view of you looking to claim.

“is this new?” you spot a tattoo under her breast, a small butterfly. the wings spread on her ribs. tracing it with your thumb, maybe you need to be re-acquainted with her.

“yeah, like it?” she says, liking the sensation of you tracing over the tattoo. you nod, a bit too entranced by the linework.

and then she grabs your hand, lifting it up gently. you snap your eyes onto hers. she smiles as she moves it upwards. dropping it right on top of her bra. and she stares at you, begging you to make a move.

she pulls you down for a kiss, you want to pull away, but she keeps you close. hand wrapped around your neck, she pulls you close enough to get her mouth next to your ear.

“you still remember how to fuck me?” sophia challenges you, lightly tugging at your lobe. “or do i need to teach you again?”

she pulls away.

she’s smirking at you, wanting you to snap.

“i still know how to fuck the senses out of you, fia.” you confidently claim, and you’re back. the same confident girl that makes her head spin.

“prove it.” she whispers.

you grab her face, kissing her with the hunger that’s been building up this whole time. you still wanted her as much as you used to. distance and time hasn’t changed how much you yearned to make her yours.

she’s pushing up into you, wanting you just as much, having a little taste wouldn’t satiate this desire. so you grab onto her torso, pulling her up. enough to unhook her bra and slide it off. another discarded piece of clothing landing across the room.

“God, you are perfect.” you say, dipping down to kiss her jaw. moving your hands again, pushing lightly into her hip. you continue to kiss down her sternum, reaching a hand to rub against her boob. lightly grabbing and pulling it towards you.

she gasps.

“you’re so sensitive, fia.” you joke. continuing your journey south. gliding your hands to unhook her pants, sliding them off her legs.

and it’s like christmas came early.

“can’t help it.” she whines a bit. anticipating your touch. “it’s you.”

you stutter a bit. the emotions in her voice are overwhelming. maybe she wanted you in the same way.

so you go silent, wanting to express how much you yearned for her. wanting to re-learn everything that makes her tick.

you slide your hands under the waistband. her panties still sticking a bit as you took them off.

she smells divine, a mixture of sweat and desire. and you’re ready for worship.

you roll into her with your pants, hips tilting upwards. letting your hardness rub against her, and she drops her mouth. pretty sounds falling from her lips.

she reaches down, grabbing a hold of you. feeling around and reaching for the belt. pulling at the buckle until it pops.

she pushes you back, frustrated she can’t get closer to you. and you land back, propping your arms just enough to let her reach for you.

she climbs on top, pulling her hair all to one side. pulling your belt off the loops. you watch her throw it off the bed, and she’s grabbing onto your pants. unbuttoning them in urgency.

“desperate?” you gaze into her.

she gives you a look that says a thousand words. the darkness in her gaze, and the kind of sterness that makes you excited.

then your pants are unbuckled. you let out a breath, relaxing as the pressure from the pants has been lifted. you’re standing at full attention, begging to be touched.

begging to be touched by her.

she puts her hands inside, not bothering to slide your pants completely off.

you let your head fall, she gets closer.

“i missed this…missed you.” she tugs a bit, and you twitch.

you nod, pulling her in for a kiss. “i missed you too fia.”

you close your hand into a fist, gripping onto her hair and letting open mouth kisses fill the air. she looks so beautiful like this, putty in your hands and plump lips that make you nearly cave in.

you reach down, a single finger that draws a line. finishing right where she wants you. you give her a tap, and she lets out a hiss.

she wants to swat your hand away, instead she gives you a look.

“stop playing.” she scolds.

“yes, ma’am.” you chuckle a bit, liking the demanding side of her. she continues to lightly play with you over your boxer briefs.

letting her nails slide up and push into your briefs. you can feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, the way she starts tugging again, rubbing the tip and spreading out your juices.

“you’re leaking baby.” she says, continuing to pump you, hands gripping enough to give you that head-spinning pleasure.

you reach down again, looking for her wetness, smiling to yourself at the feeling.

“same to you, baby.” you smirk. letting your fingers gather that wetness and spread it up.

playing with her clit until it’s begging.

you hear the hard pants and watch how she goes rigid, unable to look you in the eye. eyes closed shut with a hand on your forearm.

she looks so gorgeous, and you want more. want to mess her up so she’ll never want to leave.

you pull her hand out your briefs and she almost looks hurt. wanting to reach out again, and you stop her. you simply shake your head, kissing her enough to distract her. pushing her back, pleasing her is your only motive right now.

“baby, let me make you feel good.” she blushes at the words. she remembers how good you were with your mouth.

sometimes she’d touch herself at night just remembering the touch of you.

“please, hurry.” and you do, setting her head on a pillow. dropping yourself onto the floor.

kissing her and parting her legs. sliding your hands over her thighs. you get close enough, but not enough to touch her. and when she doesn’t expect it, you kiss her clit.

she moans at the contact, and then you latch onto it. softly sucking it, just the way she likes. when her legs twist and turn, hands reaching to grab the sheets.

you got her right where you want her. gorgeous and laid out.

you slide a hand up, running your palms through her torso, far enough to grab onto a nipple, and flick it. she grips onto your arm. the slight pain making you grin.

it’s cute how worked up she gets with you.

every little touch like a flame that dances upon her skin.

you continue to suck around her bud. giving it a slow lick and she’s gripping your arm more. you lick it with fervor, liking the way she’s begging for you, name rolling off her tongue that strokes your ego.

you stand at full attention, light twitches at her beautiful moans. you get lost in your own world, licking slowly and with a flat tongue. enjoying how her legs shake when you suck.

her body is hot to the touch, a slight sheen of sweat coating her body. casted with moonlight making her skin glow. she’s gorgeous and the only one you want in your bed.

“baby, please, i need you inside.” she begs. trying to pull you up, so you let her. let her drag your body closer, until you’re touching her with your clothed cock.

you slide your pants down, pulling them off and flinging them away, the restrictive material off your body.

and sophia watches you, likes the sight of you bare. body toned with years of farmwork and bull riding building you up.

you slide up to her, using the wetness that’s been leaking from her cunt and coating it all over your cock. enough to get you inside. she’s more desperate than you, reaching for you, and pulling it towards her.

“come on baby, it’s all yours.” you say to her. letting her dictate when she wanted you. and then she pushes you inside, instantly her head drops back onto the bed. the feeling of you inside again after so long has her starting to tear up.

“you okay baby?” you ask, a little startled from the tears.

you stop to wipe them off, ready to pull out at a second’s notice.

“so good, please move.” she begs of you, and you’re more than willing to comply. pushing in slowly and watching her face contorted in pleasure.

pretty pink lips that are begging to be kissed, so you dip down and kiss her. soft kisses that have her gripping onto your hair, pulling the hat off your head and tossing it aside.

you slowly tilt your hips to sink into her. the vibrations from her throat buzzing against your mouth. moans that are begging to be heard echoing inside. she grips harder into your hair, loving the way you stretch her.

“please move baby, i need more of you.” she detaches from your mouth, waiting for you to rock into her. and you do, in that slow pace that lets you feel every ridge of her insides. warm enveloping heat that’s making your heart hammer.

your pretty wife below you, such a vulnerable and intimate sight. you kiss her nipples, lightly massaging one with your hand and playing with the bud.

she puts a hand on your stomach, feeling your tensed abs against her nails. you continue to push in and out of her. moans in time with your movements. you want her to always feel this good, to want you forever.

you lick her nipples, then blow on them, cold air hitting her and she hisses.

“you are so gorgeous baby.” you dip down to whisper to her, and she feels herself getting wetter. the movement of you inside her has her mewling. her nails lightly scratching your abs, you continue to roll into her.

using your hips to angle upwards, pressing your tip in that soft spot. tingling immediately hitting her body from all over.

“found it.” you smirk at her. and with what strength she has she rolls her eyes. wanting to tell you off, but you hit that spot again, and she’s back to being a mess.

“fuck…” she moans out.

“yes baby, feeling good?” you smirk. she nods with whines coming out, unable to answer you. you continue tapping it, enjoying the way she seems in heaven.

you grip harder into her hips and move to tilt your hips back down, long strokes that knocks at her womb.

you want to fuck her so she forgets everything but you. want her to remember only you, it's selfish and possessive. but you need her to want to be yours.

“kiss me please.” she begs and you dive down, kissing her intensely. still giving her long strokes that have her fingers shaking.

“you’re doing so good for me, fia.” you speak in between kisses.

“my gorgeous girl.” you speak to her soul. begging her to hear your calls.

“your gorgeous girl.” she says, tears springing into her eyes again, overwhelmed by the claim. “yours. yours. yours.”

you fuck into her, hips gradually snapping. hitting against her insides and she reaches out, hands open for you to intertwine. you take it and give her hand a kiss.

she cries at the sight, all the feelings spiraling out of her.

she lets you continue to fuck her, intensity sharpening as you keep pulling in and out. her nails dig into your hands, she looks like a mess, the most gorgeous mess.

you want to keep her here forever. she knows it. knows how you’re concentrating so hard on pleasing her. she wants to as well, wants to make a mess of you.

and then she pushes you.

“baby, want to ride you.” she whimpers out, and you nod. slowly sliding out of her, ending with a light gasp from her.

“come ride your cowgirl then.” you settle yourself on the bed, laying down and watching her shake as she tries getting up, legs a little wobbly.

“don't. say. anything.”

your mouth is already half open, ready to make a joke.

but she shuts you up. instead you watch her gorgeous body climb on top of you. hands that cross around your neck.

“you look so pretty, fia.” you say, placing a kiss on her arms. rubbing them up and down as she gets situated.

“not as much as you.” she says through heavy breaths, trying to kiss you on shaky knees.

you use your legs to keep her in place, meeting her halfway. kissing her fervently and passionately.

she has you hooked, cock begging for attention.

then she slides onto you. sinking enough to let your cock rest inside her. and it feels like heaven, how you missed this.

“fuck, fia, you feel so good.” you moan out, head dropping onto the pillow.

“you feel even better.” she smiles at you. sinking down until you’re fully sheathed. she keeps her hands on your abs. settling for a rocking motion as she moves herself on top of you.

“mm, i could ride you for days.” she whispers.

“you’d ride me until i’m dry.” you scoff. hissing when she drags her nails down your body.

“you can’t go dry.” she scolds you.

she wants to milk you for all your worth and more.

“this is mine.” she clenches, enough pressure to make your cock jump.

“yeah?” you let out playfully, “did you decide that?”

“of course i did. this is mine.” she clenches again and you twitch. and she gives you no time to recover.

going right back to riding you. pulling herself up just enough to rock back down. you relish in the sight, the moonlight shining in and illuminating her body. you watch her in a haze, the pleasure spreading inside of you, but the sight of her is more than everything.

you are still so in love with her.

she continues to ride you, hand on your thigh as she leans back. rolling herself on top of you.

you feel like you could cum any second now. and you grip onto her thighs, to which she grabs a hold of you.

staring at you with desire and pleasure in her eyes.

she closes her eyes, letting the feeling of riding you consume her. she can feel the familiar feeling at the pit of her stomach.

“fuck, i’m going to cum.” she keeps repeating it to herself in the moment.

you grab a hold of her. rushing to push her back. wanting to fuck into her until she cums. in a second her back hits the bed again, and she looks at you a little dazed.

“need to fuck you.” you say just loud enough for her to hear. and push into her. going for a more relentless speed.

she keeps moaning in your ear, chanting your name lowly. it drives her crazy to have you so close.

“i’m cumming baby, inside or out?” you pant in her ear.

all you want is to cum inside, begging to pour yourself into her.

“please, inside. only inside please.” she begs for you. hooking her legs around you, holding you close. “want your kids, please.”

there’s tears in the corners of her eyes and she’s raking her nail down your back.

“yeah?” you whisper to her, feeling your stomach coiling into itself. “you’d be the best mom.”

the rush nearly hitting you when she clenches.

“fuck!” she cries desperately, pulling you into a kiss that expresses her deepest desires.

she wants this, wants to be the mother of your kids. the idea of anyone else as a replacement sends her in a tailspin.

all she wants is you.

wants to keep a part of you with her forever.

she needs you. and she needs you to want her. wants you to fill her up. she’s gasping and holding your head. staring into you, in each part that she’s loved and admired.

“baby, fill me up.” she whines, continuing to clench every so often. you gasp each time, open mouthed and head falling back.

“fuck, i’ll fill you up baby, be patient.” you hiss when she pushes back, using her hips to meet you halfway.

she feels the way you twitch inside of her, the signifier that you’re close.

you reach your climax, the white hot sensation hitting you in the body, letting out ropes of cum inside of her. grunting and moaning as you keep pushing into her, wanting to be as close as possible.

she can feel her walls getting painted with you, and it triggers her own climax.

the intimacy, the desire, the urgency makes her continue to sob as she cums.

you continue to slowly pump in her, the orgasm coming to a slow descent. trying your best not to collapse on top of her with your arms shaking. you try to push yourself up, just to get yourself in a better position so as to not crush her.

when she suddenly pulls you down, chest to chest and you can hear her sobs.

“no! stay inside.” she cries out. and maybe time has changed you but you don’t remember ever hearing her so desperate.

“fia? what’s wrong?” you’re concerned.

“no, just want you. stay inside please?” you stare at her, the desperation in her voice is echoing in your heart.

so you stay, gently wiping tears off her cheeks and comforting her as she cries. giving her kisses on her shoulder and lips.

you continue to shower her in gentle affection. letting her enjoy the feeling of you and trying your best not to move around. she feels herself relax eventually, enough to make her sleepy.

she closes her eyes, trying to drift asleep. before she does though, she whispers to you.

“stay?”

“of course, fia.”

–

the morning has dawned and you let yourself sleep in. with sophia next to you and the memories of last night, you feel on top of the world.

it feels like the old you is back. there’s still the ever-looming divorce over your head but maybe last night changed things.

maybe you can allow yourself to believe she wants to stay. maybe she doesn’t want this divorce.

maybe you can allow yourself happiness again.

it’s a slow morning. you’re trying your best to clean up last night’s mess. dirty clothes tossed into a hamper, trying your best not to wake sophia up as you clean her.

giving her kisses that nearly wake her up. hand reaching out to find you.

it’s domestic, and an old familiarity you missed.

you give her another kiss just before you leave.

it’s a good morning to enjoy yourself on the porch. rubbing behind charlie’s ears and sitting in your rocking chair.

letting the thoughts of sophia consume you as always. maybe you’ll buy her flowers today, wrap it in a bouquet for her. or cook her breakfast so she can have it in bed. the thought keeps you happy.

then charlie barks, standing at attention. that’s when you spot someone in the distance.

“can i help you, sir?” you continue to chew on your stick, lightly rocking back and forth.

he’s too well dressed, a three piece grey suit that’s already gathering dirt and dust under his feet.

he’s fidget-y, device in hand as he frantically searches for a signal.

“i’m looking for sophia. sophia laforteza?” he’s continuing to twirl in circles, hands up in the air as he walks in different directions, trying to look for a signal.

he looks like a damn fool.

“sir, i don’t know of a sophia.” you continue to chew at your stick. hand firmly held on your buckle.

“well either you’re lying or this gps is.” he says, continuing to fiddle with his device and he starts walking towards the house. “and i spent a couple thousand on it.”

“i don’t know a sophia. you must have the wrong place.” you shout back.

charlie’s tail stills when he doesn’t move. instead he approaches you. a charming smile on his face.

he gets close enough for you to escalate.

you lift your gun out, pointing it at his forehead.

“i don’t take too kindly to strangers trespassing.” you let out. “please leave.”

“sophia! i know you’re in there.” the stranger shouts.

“you have some goddamn nerve.” you shout, stepping up face to face.

charlie rushes forward, loud barking shaking him up. you keep him still, not letting him lunge forward to bite.

he smirks seeing the door open and sophia running down the steps.

she’s by your side in an instant. and then she sees him, and her blood runs cold.

he wasn’t supposed to find her, or you.

he wasn’t supposed to have leverage.

“sophia! where the hell have you been? i’ve been calling your cell, your manager, lara, everyone!”

his voice cracks at the end and he looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel. his forehead vein sticking out and blood rushing to his cheeks.

“i couldn’t contact anyone! but i had this tracker and it led me here. in new mexico.”

he explains rapidly and at this point you’ve pushed sophia behind you. putting some distance between this strange man and your wife.

“what are you doing here in new mexico?” he finally stops.

“i-...go home thomas. we’ll talk later.” sophia says.

“no, i’m not leaving without you, laforteza.” he says with an awful smirk. one that starts making you nervous.

you didn’t know anything about thomas.

“who are you?” you ask, and sophia wishes she could rewind time. rewind to a time where she never left, kept you close and didn’t break your heart, because she feels like she’ll break it all over again.

“i’m thomas moore, nice to meet you.” he offers his hand, you don’t shake it. “i take it, sophia hasn’t introduced me?” he says, taking his hand back.

“i’m sophia’s fiancé.”

he says with a smile that’s slow, ending a grin that makes you want to rip it off of him.

fiancé?

it hits you in your chest, the shock making your ears ring. ringing and all you can see is sophia arguing with him. shouts like a silent film in your head. you’ve been duped again.

you let your heart get trampled over again. ruined by this woman. she’s crying and trying to shake you out of your haze. you don’t see the tears that trickle out your eyes. hand open faced and gun to the ground.

she tries shaking you again. and you take a step back. a tense step, muscle at full flex. you need to get out, you need to get away.

she’s done it again, she’s let you believe in her love. after everything you tried spelling out to her last night, you want to forget her. you want to forget how you gave the deepest part of you to her.

you leave, feet turning into the house. quick steps turning into a mad dash. you’re opening kitchen drawers, running through the house, trying to look for a pen. anything that can write. you don’t even know if anything else is real.

pen. pen. pen.

and then you find one, it’s an old pen. ink nearly dried up, and you’re scribbling on scrap paper. heart thumping loudly, with adrenaline coursing through you.

sophia runs after you, trying to get you to stop. she watches you try to write with a pen. her mind going haywire. she has no idea what you’re trying to do. she’s trying to anticipate it and then it hits her.

her heart drops.

“no! baby please, look at me.” she begs you, grabbing a hold of your face. trying to break you from your dazed self. angry tears staining the paper.

you grab the papers from the cabinet. an extra copy of the divorce papers that sophia handed you. the lines are tagged with blue tabs. every line you need to sign is there.

and you see the ink flowing again.

sophia’s crying, trying to get you to stop.

you lift your pen in the air, placing it onto the divorce forms. signing the line. flipping through the pages with anger, signing the other lines.

“please, let me explain.” she’s sobbing and begging you to look at her. it’s no use, you should’ve never trusted her again. of course she would leave again.

what were you expecting?

you finally sign it all and sophia’s sunken to the floor, tears wracking her body and she stares at the floor.

“this is what you wanted, right?” you bite out.

she looks up at you, shaking her head vehemently.

“no, no, i don’t want this. no!” she nearly screams. she gets up, trying to hug you.

“get off of me, sophia.” you cry out. arms at your side as she keeps her arms around you. it’s suffocating, you never thought you’d say it, but her touch is suffocating.

“my name is fia! it’s fia! you don’t call me sophia!” she cries out, her heart is breaking.

everything is in ruin again. you’re in ruin too. this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

you wanted to ask her to reconsider, thought of getting her flowers and dressing up all nice to ask her on a date.

this solidified everything you thought was wrong.

“you have a fiancé?” you ask, with betrayal laced in your tone, backing up from her. it hurts to look at her.

she doesn’t know what to say, so she says nothing. bloodshot eyes that are begging for you to hear her out.

“and you didn’t tell me?” you continue to be impressed, at how little you know sophia.

she shakes her head, trying so hard not to have heave.

“please, let me explain.” she begs and you shake your head. it hurts so bad, it’s sucking your energy to be in this room with her.

“and last night…did you even mean it?” you ask, hand over your heart as you feel the anger boiling. you gave her everything, your heart and soul, and she has a fiancé. one that she conveniently forgot to tell you about.

“of course i meant it! i always mean it.” she shouts back, disgusted by the accusation.

you stare at her, begging for the truth, for this all to be one sick play, where all the curtains rise and a camera crew filming the whole thing. a punk’d kind of sick trick.

“you must be one hell of an actress out there, laforteza.” you say out of spite. “you had me fooled with your act.”

“don’t you dare. i never, i never—it was never an act with you.” she nearly screams.

but the curtains don’t rise, and reality sticks.

“get out sophia. i don’t want to see you ever again.” you say. you stare at the divorce papers that you haphazardly signed.

signatures flying across the page, and tears wrinkling it. it’s a poor sight, and one that you want out of your home.

“get the fuck out.”

she feels her heart crack, truly crack. there’s so much hatred in your voice. pain ladened anger that screams for retreat.

she cries out, hands reaching out for you. you turn away from her. tears streaming down your face.

“if you won’t leave, i will.” you bite out. moving past her, and out the house. and once again you’re running off on buckeye.

charlie following you closely. whimpers coming from him when he doesn’t see sophia follow. he gives one final look before running to catch up to you.

sophia’s sobbing into herself, curled herself into a ball. staring at the home you both once built. maybe this was how it was always supposed to be. maybe she should’ve just stayed away the first time.

maybe she doesn’t deserve this happy ending either.

thomas steps into the house, the cunning smile rubbed off his face, a colder exterior forming.

“sophia, let’s go.” he says, offering his hand. “enough playing house, you have responsibilities.”

sophia looks at him through her tears, anger directed towards him. steel eyes forged with anger and resentment.

“thomas. fuck. off.” sophia stands up, grabbing the papers off the desk. leaving the house with him behind her.

she gives one more look at the house. trying to commit it to memory, trying to commit you to memory. hand on the door handle, opening the car door and stepping inside.

maybe she needs to put this all behind.

she cries to herself as the car pulls out the ranch, hand crumpling the paper in her hand.

just like a phantom, she disappears again.

this time you want her to stay away.

a/n: how did we like the ending!!! :) i apologize if this isn't true to the american cowgirl/ranch owner/bull rider experience, i tried my best! and honestly this was a whole beast to write so i hope you enjoyed it! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#neoplatinum #katseye #sophia laforteza #sophia katseye #katseye x reader #katseye sophia #sophia x reader #sophia #katseye sophia x reader #sophia laforteza x reader #g!p reader

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sunni-stuff · 9 months ago

Text

P1 here.

Ghost walks through the door of your home as if he owns the place, tossing his keys onto the coffee table and shrugging off his gear by the door. He remembers your address by heart and recognizes the space he's walking through once again.

Glancing around, he expected to see you greet him at the foyer only to be met with silence. Ghost passes by your couch, gloved fingers running against the back while his mind replays the sounds of your needy moans from when he fingered you on the cushions just weeks ago.

Ghost has had countless flings and meaningless one night stands, but never did he expect any of the doves he's played with to actively call for more.

Though he wasn't complaining.

A creaking floorboard causes his head to snap towards the stairs. There, he sees you cautiously descending, the sides of your nightgown clutched anxiously in your palms. “I didn't think you'd actually show.”

Simon stares at you, his eyes roaming over your form, taking in every dip and curve visible through the lacey material. He lets out a heavy breath, fist clenched in deep restraint as he thanked every single god above for what's standing in front of him. “How can I ignore a civilian in need?”

Your laugh makes him still, the mirthful chuckle and the smile on your lips making the tent in his pants ache painfully.

Did you know what you were doing to him? How just your chuckles alone stirred something profound?

“So… upstairs or on the couch?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“You wanted me here, love. Dealers' choice.” Simon watches you fumble, fingers thumbing over the lacing decorating the bottom of your nightgown.

“Upstairs then.”

For Simon, everything seems to happen in blurs. Just moments ago he was standing by the stairs and the next he's in between your legs, one large hand splayed over your stomach having you lay back motioning for you to relax as he eats you out like a man starved.

He doesn't remember how he got here; all that matters now is the taste of your cunt on his tongue. Simon laps at your glossy lips, tongue gliding your sensitive folds to your clit, making sure to give both his undivided attention. He needed no words to know he was doing a good job; your knees attempting to lock behind his head was added confirmation if your whines for more weren't enough.

“Can't you just put it in?” You huff in between moans, attempting to sit up on your elbows despite his efforts to keep you down.

“Shhh…” Simon coos, pressing a fleeting kiss on your pearl before pulling away his chin and lips shining your slick. “Look at that, practically begging for me.” A thick digit runs down your slit, gathering a pool of wetness and licking it off his fingers.

Simon gazes at your cunt, observing how just his lips hovering near causes your weeping hole to clench around nothing. He could watch this all day. Watch how badly you needed him. How only he had the privilege to hear you beg.

“Alright, fussy bird,” He stands up straight, his shadow completely consuming you, the stark differences between you two are evident. Simon is not a small man in the slightest. Everything about him screams large. His presence commands attention, from his muscular arms down to his sturdy thighs.

Simon grabs ahold of your waist, pulling you against his bulge, slowly grinding his hips up and down, teasing you along the rough fabric of his jeans. He shows a little restraint, purposely holding back in hopes of hearing more pleas. “Come on, love, tell me what you need.”

This is what you dreamed of. His hands, his voice, his lips against your skin, a true dream come true. The final stretch was so close, so near and yet he still kept you tethered to the edge. “Please, I need it,” You mewl desperately, hips bucking for more friction.

Simon chuckles lightly, watching as you practically bounce in anticipation. "Someone's in a hurry," he jokes, despite his growing ardor matching your own.

With nimble fingers, he quickly unbuttons his jeans, sliding them down along with his boxers until he's bare to you. His eyes bore into yours as he did so, a silent question in them. His large cock sprang free, bobbing up against his stomach in time with his rapid heartbeat.

The sight of his length, standing proud and erect, was enough to intensify the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. Finally, you'd be full once again, getting to feel that cock of his in places no one else can reach. You nod all too eagerly, laying back to fully embrace everything.

With a swift lift of your hips, Simon nudges the edge of himself against you, drawing a ragged groan as he feels the wet heat of your waiting entrance. One hand grabbing his length, he slowly guided his throbbing cock against your slick folds. The head of his erection teased your entrance for a moment, before he pressed forward, burying himself inside you. “Fuck, fuck, more, please.”

Simon can't help but smirk at your eagerness, patting your thigh appreciatively. “Can't rush things, dove. Don't want you breaking.” It's a slow push, his cock stretching your welcoming heat inch by inch. As he bottomed out, he let out a throaty groan, his fingers digging into your hips, anchoring you to him.

You cum in that exact moment, your pussy squeezing tightly around him and milking his cock. It feels like a faucet that won't stop dripping, coating his length with your sweet juices. For a brief moment you're dazed, head swimming and unable to hear anything over the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Fuck me,” he breathes, admiring the sight of you breathless. You feel like velvet, your pussy a vice he wasn’t sure he’d be able to quit. His thumb pushes against your clit and you whine, your voice high-pitched.

“Sensitive, please,” you beg, squirming until his hands force your hips down. Your lips are forced into an o shape, a silent scream forced from your chest when he does the exact opposite.

You’re not sure if you’re begging for him to stop or begging for more–it’s hard to tell when you’re being fucked within an inch of your life.

“Stay with me dove, stay with me,” Simon sneers, something depraved and feral in his voice. “Lemme make you feel good.”

Once the initial shock of cumming has passed, he begins to move inside you, setting a slow, deliberate pace. With every thrust, he claimed more of you, your bodies moving together in synchronicity. The scent of your sex mingled in the confined space of your bedroom, intensifying the intimate atmosphere.

Simon closes his eyes, wanting to savor the moment. Everything about this is mesmerizing. He'd rather be here than anywhere else in the world.

A hitched moan has him opening his eyes, his gaze boring into yours, wanting to see every flicker of pleasure that passes through you. Thank you, god, Simon thinks. He could feel himself teetering on the edge, but he held on, wanting to draw this pleasure out as long as possible. He wanted to give you everything and more.

“Feel like heaven,” he breathes. “Is this what you wanted? Wanted me nice and deep huh?”

His palm presses on your stomach where his cock bulges the skin, his grin wicked. “Poor girl, can’t make herself cum so she had to call me, yeah?”

You nod, a symphony of yes yes yes escaping you as Simon bears down upon you, the bed rocking with each movement.

“Had to call me because you know no one can fuck you like I can,” he says, “say it for me, c’mon.”

You hiccup through every word. “N-No one can fuck me—oh god—like you Si’—”

Your words make his ego grow, muttering of that's fuckin’ right streaming from his lips as he comes, the feeling sending your nerves on overdrive.

As he felt you tightening around him, he knew you were close—as close as he was. His hand slipped between their bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure. He stroked in rhythm with his thrusts, chasing your orgasm with his.

Your pleasure peaked simultaneously, his cum filling you as you cum around him, walls clenching and rippling along his length in your aftershock. After a moment, he pulls out carefully, the room filled with your heavy breathing.

Neither of you spoke for a while, simply staring back at each other through lust-filled eyes and flushed cheeks. Simon starts his retreat, stepping back to make distance and pulling up his pants. Your hand on his makes him pause. He raises a brow, confused by your actions. He opens his mouth but you're quicker.

“We aren't done.”

The original prompt was supposed to be a little thing; but so many people liked it, so here <3! This most likely won't be a series.

Taglist (ppl who commented): @pheebslu @amaraabbz @crestapex @tsarinamariya @kittykatgorl @havoc973 @gg-trini @coyotebayou @delta98-idk @thincess-reup @my-bright-legacy @jaxz21 @readersandtumblers

#cod x reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #call of duty smut #sunshine sunni

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grandline-fics · 1 year ago

Note

hiiii! I really love your account and I'm so glad you're still taking requests, I was thinking of like Law, zoro and ace having a nightmare of reader getting married to another guy and how would they feel after waking up in the morning seeing reader next to them sleeping <3 take your time and I hope you have a great day or night!

DESCRIPTION: They have a nightmare that you marry someone else

WARNINGS: little bit of brief angst/insecurity but it's kept light for the most part

CHARACTERS: Law, Zoro, | Ace, Shanks, Mihawk, Kid, Katakuri | Luffy, Usopp

WORDS: 1,156

A/N: I absolutely loved this request and I hope you like what I came up with for it. Sadly I could only think of scenarios for just Law and Zoro.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

LAW

Law finds himself having this dream often, of finally marrying you. Every blissful, happy detail is unchanging and one he never tires of seeing. After years of torturous, painful nightmares plagued by his past trauma to dream of a future he wishes to make a reality is a welcome one. Tonight however his subconscious felt something was off. It wasn’t his usual dream he was so accustomed to. Normally at the beginning of the dream he’d be standing at the front of the aisle, watching your beautiful form coming into view and approach him with an excited, loving smile gracing your face.

This time however he was standing at the back of the room. He heard your laugh and he turned, his eyes widening in shock to see you already in place and holding hands with who you were marrying, Eustass Kid. Suddenly all sound fell away and he felt like as much as he tried to run towards you, he stayed firmly in place and forced to watch your lips shape the wedding vows. Over and over he tried to activate his powers, to shambles you away and out of the touch of his rival but even that failed him. His distress grow as he watch you and Kid lean in, lips parting to seal the wedding with a kiss.

With a shout, Law lurched forward, breathing heavily and mind swimming with the disturbing images still fresh in his mind as he woke and took his time in getting his bearings. With slow breaths, he pushed the heel of his hand against his already tightly shut eyes, desperate to force the images away. Beside him he felt a movement and with a sigh he looked to see you waking. Blearily you forced your eyes open enough to see Law was sitting up in the bed. Still half asleep, you couldn’t find the energy to pull yourself up so you reached out, taking his hand into yours and tugged him to lie down with you.

Relief flooded Law as the realisation that it really was a nightmare and you’d always reach out for him was the reality. Eagerly he lay down against, you settling his head on your chest, a satisfied smile curling his lips when you threaded your fingers into his hair, making sleepy movements against his scalp to comfort him. “Bad dream again?” You asked, voice thick with sleep but you refused to let yourself fall back over until you were sure he was okay.

“Different one, but still bad.” Law admitted, curling his arms around your body to hold you close. “Dreamt you married Kid of all people.” There was a moment of silence and your fingers stilled in his hair making him think you’d fallen asleep. Finally you let out a sigh and tapped his head, making him turn his head just enough to look at your disapproving stare breaking through the tiredness.

“Law I have better taste than that.” You scowled before resuming your comforting motions in his hair. “Now go back to sleep and dream it right this time.” Law let out a sleepy chuckle and did as he was told. Although now he as he began to drift to sleep, he began to put a plan in motion to give you the real wedding you deserved.

ZORO

This couldn’t be happening. This was his worst thing he’d ever have to witness in his life. No matter how many times he shook his head and rubbed his eyes, the sight was the same. He was standing amongst the rest of the crew who were cheering happily as they all watched you exchange rings and a sealing kiss with Sanji. The horror of what he had to witness didn’t end there. He was rooted in place having to watch your first dance with him, lovingly pressed up against him as you both swayed together, staring at each other with an expression he once got to share with you.

The image melted away to the familiarity of the dining room and he watched you lean up to kiss Sanji as he placed an extravagant meal in front of you, your hand cupping his face in sickening adoration, the gleaming band of gold on your finger all but blinding him from the repulsive display. His mind was racing as he tried to think how this happened. Weren’t you two happy? Hadn’t you both sworn that you’d always love one another? Didn’t you love him anymore? When did he lose you? What had he done that made you pick the stupid cook? Had he died and gone to Hell? That must have been it.

“Zoro!” He jolted awake to see you standing by his bed, hand on his chest as you shook him awake. Concern etched your face. You’d just finished your watch and came back to your shared room to see Zoro tossing and turning in his sleep, clearly trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake from. Slowly Zoro sat up in the bed as his good eye sharpened. When he realised it was you and thinking on what he’d just seen, he acted instantly. His hand took yours desperately and he lifted it, inspecting your fingers with as much attention as he would when he cared for his swords. “No ring.” He finally said with a relieved sigh, pulling you onto the bed to settle against him.

Keeping your hand in his grip, he used the other to hold you close against him. You blinked in confusion and sat up to tilt your head at him with a growing frown. While you never wanted to force your relationship with Zoro to go to the next step, you would have been lying to say you hadn’t hoped that a proposal would some day come up. Worry began to gnaw at you. Were you more invested in this than he was? “You’re…relieved I don’t have a ring on my finger? The thought of marrying me is so bad to make you toss and turn in a nightmare?”

“What? No! I’d love that.” Zoro protested, cursing himself for his clumsy words. “It’s only a nightmare when you’re married to that shithead cook!”

“Oh…” Your eyes widened and you bit your lip, fighting a smile to hide your excitement that Zoro wanted to marry you. Quickly to ease the tension of a very real conversation that you both were probably too tired to have you decided to clear your throat and joke with him. “So how nice was the ring?” You let out a squeal when Zoro suddenly tossed you onto the bed beside him and rolled onto his side with a long yawn breaking from his lips. You pouted playfully to see his eyes were closed again, already falling asleep with his freakish talent.

“It looked like shit, the one I give you will be one hundred times better. Now get to sleep.”

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa

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aeth-eris · 8 months ago

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rising signs : animalistic features

aries rising - tiger, falcon, and lynx

body: aries risings exhibit the muscular and agile build of a tiger, combined with the aerodynamic frame of a falcon and the compact, athletic form of a lynx. their bodies are often toned and fit, showcasing their strength and speed. they possess an upright posture, emphasizing their readiness and boldness, as if they are always prepared for action. the combination of these animals highlights their powerful and assertive presence, as they move with precision and swiftness. face: angular, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline that mirrors the boldness of a tiger. their eyes are sharp and intense, much like the falcon’s focused, penetrating gaze, while their expressions carry the quiet, alert nature of a lynx. the overall facial structure is defined and commanding, reflecting a fierce and determined attitude. their gaze can be both direct and intimidating, showcasing their fearless and straightforward approach to life. aura: dynamic, assertive, and commanding. aries risings carry an electric, action-oriented energy that feels like a constant surge of adrenaline. they exude a sense of confidence and leadership, blending the power and grace of a tiger, the sharp awareness and agility of a falcon, and the stealth and precision of a lynx. their presence ignites intensity, pushing others to rise to the challenge or keep up with their relentless pace.

taurus rising - bison, tortoise, and walrus

body: taurus risings have a solid and powerful build that combines the massive strength of a bison, the grounded, steady presence of a tortoise, and the robust frame of a walrus. they typically appear broad and muscular, with thick limbs and a physique that emphasizes resilience and stability. their movements are purposeful and deliberate, often slow and measured, showcasing their connection to the earth and their preference for consistency. face: broad and rounded features, with a calm and peaceful expression that resembles the serene gaze of a tortoise. their eyes are steady, showing depth and warmth, much like the wise look of a bison. the full cheeks and strong, defined chin echo the presence and strength of a walrus, giving them an appearance of solidity and strength. aura: grounded, reliable, and reassuring. taurus risings project a steady, nurturing energy that feels safe and dependable, combining the wisdom of a tortoise, the protective power of a bison, and the enduring strength of a walrus. their presence is calming, making those around them feel secure, as they exhibit a consistent, steadfast nature that doesn’t waver.

gemini rising - sparrow, monkey, and butterfly

body: light, quick, and agile, gemini risings have a lean build that allows for rapid movement, similar to a sparrow’s nimble form. they carry the playful energy of a monkey, showing a lively and expressive demeanor, while the delicate, fluttering grace of a butterfly adds a sense of lightness and charm. their body reflects a youthful, ever-active nature, constantly shifting and adapting to their environment. face: sharp, animated features with bright, inquisitive eyes that capture the alertness of a sparrow. their facial expressions are lively and change rapidly, similar to the playful curiosity seen in a monkey. they may have fine, delicate facial structures that resemble the soft, whimsical beauty of a butterfly, adding to their light and engaging appearance. aura: playful, energetic, and intelligent. gemini risings carry a dynamic and sociable energy, blending the lightness and freedom of a sparrow, the quick-witted and expressive nature of a monkey, and the delicate charm of a butterfly. their presence feels like a breeze—refreshing, unpredictable, and always in motion—sparking curiosity and encouraging interaction.

cancer rising - seal, koala, and panda

body: soft and nurturing, cancer risings often have a gentle, rounded build that reflects the comforting presence of a seal. their physique is compact, similar to a koala’s, emphasizing approachability and warmth, while the soft and cuddly nature of a panda adds a sense of protection and tenderness. they move with a slow, flowing grace, creating an inviting and soothing presence. face: round and expressive, with large, tender eyes that resemble the gentle and caring gaze of a panda. their expressions are soft and calm, showing warmth and empathy like a seal’s, and they possess a nurturing quality reminiscent of a koala’s peaceful demeanor. their cheeks are often full, giving them a youthful, approachable look that conveys comfort and care. aura: warm, gentle, and nurturing. cancer risings project an energy that feels soothing and protective, blending the tenderness of a panda, the comforting nature of a seal, and the nurturing presence of a koala. their aura creates a safe space, making others feel understood and supported in their presence, as they embody a sense of home and emotional safety.

leo rising - lion, peacock, and golden eagle

body: leo risings possess a powerful, athletic build reminiscent of a lion’s strength, combined with the tall, elegant posture of a golden eagle and the flamboyant beauty of a peacock. they have a commanding presence, with a fit, muscular frame that draws attention and exudes confidence. their movements are deliberate and graceful, embodying their regal nature. face: striking and bold, with prominent, angular features that evoke the majesty of a lion. their eyes are intense, like a golden eagle’s, projecting a sense of focus and strength. the dramatic flair of a peacock is seen in their expressive facial gestures, emphasizing their charisma and boldness. voluminous hair often enhances their presence, resembling a lion’s mane or a peacock’s extravagant display. aura: radiant, magnetic, and commanding. leo risings emit a confident and captivating energy that draws others in, blending the regal power of a lion, the focused intensity of a golden eagle, and the showy elegance of a peacock. their aura feels bright and uplifting, inspiring admiration and respect, as they naturally take center stage in any setting.

virgo rising - cat, antelope, and dragonfly

body: virgo risings have a slender and graceful build like a cat, with the agile, athletic form of an antelope and the delicate, light structure of a dragonfly. their bodies appear refined and controlled, moving with quick and precise movements that highlight their attention to detail. face: delicate and angular, with sharp, intelligent eyes similar to those of a cat. their expressions are thoughtful, often showing focus and calm observation. the sleek look of an antelope and the fine, intricate beauty of a dragonfly are reflected in their facial features, giving them an air of grace and sophistication. aura: calm, meticulous, and composed. virgo risings carry an energy that feels precise and thoughtful, combining the awareness of a cat, the grace of an antelope, and the lightness of a dragonfly. their presence is composed and organized, creating an atmosphere that feels efficient and intelligent, like everything is in its proper place.

libra rising - gazelle, swan, and dove

body: libra risings are long-limbed and elegant, with the slender and graceful build of a gazelle, the poised beauty of a swan, and the gentle softness of a dove. they have a balanced and proportional physique that moves fluidly and gracefully, appearing refined and harmonious. face: symmetrical and soft, with serene eyes that mirror the peaceful gaze of a dove. their facial features are refined, exuding the delicate beauty of a swan and the graceful movement of a gazelle. their skin and facial structure often appear smooth and well-balanced, enhancing their overall elegance. aura: harmonious, peaceful, and inviting. libra risings emit a calming and balanced energy that feels welcoming and graceful, combining the elegance of a swan, the charm of a dove, and the poise of a gazelle. their presence creates an atmosphere of beauty and harmony, making those around them feel at ease and inspired.

scorpio rising - wolf, scorpion, and raven

body: scorpio risings have a lean and muscular build, combining the stealthy, agile form of a wolf, the controlled precision of a scorpion, and the sleek, dynamic appearance of a raven. they move with purpose and fluidity, exuding an intensity that feels both powerful and mysterious. face: sharp and defined, with piercing eyes that convey the watchful, predatory gaze of a wolf. their facial features are intense and captivating, reflecting the enigmatic and precise nature of a scorpion and the mysterious allure of a raven. their expressions often appear serious, hinting at hidden depths and secrets. aura: intense, magnetic, and enigmatic. scorpio risings project a deep, transformative energy that feels both powerful and alluring, blending the loyalty and intensity of a wolf, the stealth of a scorpion, and the mysterious presence of a raven. their aura draws people in, creating a sense of intrigue and fascination that leaves others wanting to know more.

sagittarius rising - mustang, albatross, and otter

body: sagittarius risings have a tall, lean, and athletic build like a mustang, with the expansive, soaring energy of an albatross and the playful, flexible movements of an otter. they possess a fit physique that exudes freedom and vitality, moving swiftly and gracefully. face: bold and expressive, with bright, adventurous eyes similar to an albatross’s far-seeing gaze. their facial features are open and inviting, reflecting the playful nature of an otter and the wild, untamed spirit of a mustang. their expressions are often warm and enthusiastic, embodying their love for exploration and adventure. aura: adventurous, open, and enthusiastic. sagittarius risings carry an expansive, free-spirited energy that feels vibrant and uplifting, blending the speed and freedom of a mustang, the vision of an albatross, and the joyful playfulness of an otter. their presence encourages exploration and inspires others to embrace new experiences.

capricorn rising - ibex, owl, and mountain goat

body: capricorn risings have a sturdy and lean build like an ibex, with the disciplined structure of a mountain goat and the quiet, resilient presence of an owl. they move with precision and strength, reflecting their determination and focus. their physique often appears strong and fit, showcasing their resilience and their ability to navigate challenges with grace and endurance. face: angular, with a serious, observant gaze that mirrors the keen eyes of an owl. their facial features are defined and strong, showing the resilience of an ibex and the perseverance of a mountain goat. their expressions are composed and calm, highlighting their practical and methodical approach, often exuding an air of quiet authority. aura: disciplined, steady, and authoritative. capricorn risings exude a grounded energy that feels strong and reliable, blending the endurance of a mountain goat, the wisdom of an owl, and the resilience of an ibex. their presence is focused, instilling a sense of stability and determination in others, encouraging confidence and a sense of purpose in any environment they enter.

aquarius rising - octopus, crow, and gecko

body: aquarius risings possess a flexible and adaptable build like an octopus, combined with the sleek, dynamic presence of a crow and the agile, versatile movements of a gecko. they often have a slim and unique physique that reflects their individuality and adaptability. their movements are fluid and unpredictable, showcasing their readiness to adapt to new environments and embrace unconventional ways of moving through the world. face: distinctive features with bright, intelligent eyes similar to those of a crow. their expressions often carry a sense of curiosity and insight, reflecting the adaptability of a gecko and the enigmatic quality of an octopus. their facial structure is unique and may have an asymmetrical or unconventional charm, emphasizing their innovative and forward-thinking nature. aura: unconventional, innovative, and dynamic. aquarius risings project an energy that feels futuristic and adaptable, blending the intelligence and flexibility of an octopus, the sharp wit of a crow, and the resourcefulness of a gecko. their presence feels electric and intriguing, inviting others to think outside the box and approach life with an open and inventive mindset.

pisces rising - manatee, chameleon, and jellyfish

body: pisces risings often have a soft, rounded build like a manatee, combined with the fluid, adaptable movements of a jellyfish and the transformative nature of a chameleon. their physique appears gentle and calm, emphasizing a peaceful and approachable presence. they move with a serene, flowing grace that feels almost ethereal, embodying a sense of fluidity and adaptability to their surroundings. face: soft, gentle features with large, dreamy eyes that convey deep empathy and sensitivity, resembling a manatee’s warm and compassionate gaze. their expressions are fluid and often reflective, mirroring the chameleon’s ability to adapt and change. their overall look has an otherworldly quality similar to a jellyfish, with a soft and delicate appearance that enhances their mystical aura. aura: dreamy, empathetic, and fluid. pisces risings emit a soothing, nurturing energy that feels ethereal and adaptable, blending the gentle nature of a manatee, the flexibility of a chameleon, and the calming essence of a jellyfish. their presence creates a peaceful and intuitive atmosphere, making others feel at ease and inviting them into their compassionate and imaginative world.

#astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #astrology moodboard #astrology rising #ascendant sign

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thbbie · 1 month ago

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༄ husband!osamu x f!reader

you bite down. hard. teeth sinking into your husbands warm flesh. he yelps out in surprise at the suddenness of your action — though, he should be used to it by now.

your little nibbles — on his fingertips, his forearms, his ears, his chest. he is used to it. it's rare for him to be seen without the little indents on his skin, red marks of the parts of him you stake your claim on the last time you had your hands (and teeth) on him.

it comes to you naturally, you need something to gnaw on and your dear husband is right there, in all his perfect chew toy glory with his thick arms, thick chest, thick thighs, hard muscles softened up by the layer of plush that surrounds them.

there is just so much of him.

and very inch of golden skin is just so tempting. you cant help but sink you teeth into him. osamu never complain, in fact if anything, he is actively encouraging you.

in bed, under your sheets when he hovers over you, you've got the best view of his body glistening in sweat, his brown eyes dark and glossy with want, hunger. osamus lips are parted, letting every sound he makes out for you to hear. once upon a time he would've been shy about this, embarrassed at himself even — not anymore, not now.

now he gives you everything, all of him. raw and unashamed, osamu put himself on a platter for you to devour.

his hips slam into yours in a smooth consistent repeated motion, legs dangling helplessly over his shoulders with each thrust deeper into you.

breathing harshly with his sliver chain dangling over you. a simple dainty thing you'd gifted him, a pendant of your initial glimmering in the low light of the room. that's not what osamu has his attention set on now though; instead, he hones in on your lips. the way you've got them tugged between teeth, biting into them till their plump and red and nearly bloody.

osamu shifts his weight to his other arm, pulling your lip free with his thumb muttering out a breathy "you'll hurt yourself" brushing over it with his thumb once, twice before letting go and sliding his index and middle fingers into your itching mouth, he sees it, you need to bury your teeth into something.

"bite here instead. mhm theree you go darlin' now don't be shy. osamu can handle it"

you look up at him, meeting his dark glossy gaze with your own for confirmation. he want you to bite him? "come on now, you could do it. you were being so harsh with your poor lip just now. "

he punctuates each of his words with a slow deep thrust into you, dick hitting that sensitive spot inside you with each buck if his hips. you whine around his digits and finally bite down.

osamu doesn't hold back the groan that escapes him, his dick twitching against your gummy walls. "heh, there's my girll~ keep at it yea? m' -hahh all yers ta gnaw on. my girls very own chew toy. yeaa~ just like that. mhmhn"

your eyes teary as he picks up the pace, slamming himself into you faster, rougher. rubbing your clit in tight little circles . when you release his fingers at a particularly deep thrust, tip snug against your g-spot you cry out "os- sa- ahh~ muu" his name comes out in syllables, a moan between each one, your voice stretched and shaky.

he just shushs you, "bite down for me. feels good yea, sinking yer teeth into me? atta girl~"

osamu is now rarely ever seen without bite marks littered all over him. his neck, his arms, his butt (yea. yea. you freak. but he doesn't mind (he enjoys it more than words could ever convey))

he doesn't put too much effort into hiding them away form view, simply remaining unbothered by them as he goes about his day, running the restaurant.

if someone does comment he is so incredibly relaxed about it, "oh those?" as if he doesn't even remember the little stinging marks are there despite the growing pride that makes his broad chest swell wider because between those cute indents of yours and the silver band on his left hand, everyone knows that he is yours.

and in his eyes, that's exactly how it's meant to be.

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electricgg · 1 month ago

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Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Chapter 7: Silver Spoons And Butter Knives, Living Hand To Mouth I’m Getting By

Masterlist Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 (Here!) / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of Bullying, Suicidal implications, Body harm, Body Horror

The concept of boarding school wasn’t as bad as people portray it.

A boarding school is an institution where students live on the premises while receiving formal instruction, essentially providing both lodging and meals. Unlike normal schools, boarding schools offer a residential experience, often encompassing a wider range of extracurricular activities and a sense of community.

At least, that’s the literal definition she found on the internet.

When Bobby (with whom she had exchanged phone numbers and yapped the whole weekend through text, and sent her way too many TikToks she didn’t really understand but found funny) had asked her if she was staying at the dorms so they could hang out after class, she suddenly found a ray of hope of getting away from the Waynes.

Which led her to do a thorough research on Wikipedia.

Gotham Academy has been a prestigious, private boarding school for Gotham’s elite. And anyone who could afford it, or had a scholarship.

Most members of the Wayne family had gone to the academy. Most of the said members were expelled or dropped out of it.

Including Bruce himself.

Which is why she was currently pissed off on a Monday morning as Alfred drove the younger members of the family to school.

“This is bullshit,” She muttered while pouting at the window, arms crossed and legs sprawled out in the passenger seat.

The butler gave her a pointed look, letting her know that she should behave. The young girl readjusted her sitting position with a grumble. Her glare followed the tall buildings and the people walking around the busy sidewalk, passing them by in a blur to those with normal eyesight.

Not for her, thought. Everything seemed so slow-paced today.

It was quite annoying. From the moment she woke up that morning, it had been like stepping into a slow-motion sequence. The curtains of her room moved oh so gently, it almost seemed like they were floating. The water from her shower had stopped for a few moments, and she could even count the drops of the stream that stood frozen in the air before she received a cold splash in the face that almost made her crack her head open again if she hadn’t hung onto the built-in shelves on the wall. Then, the gremlin at breakfast. He seemed to take his sweet time eating his French toast, which was almost disturbing to see how slow someone could chew on his food. It made her sick to the stomach remembering it.

They were short lapses of time. Didn’t last too long, but those moments still managed to unsettle her and keep her on the edge.

“I’m afraid this is something you will have to discuss with your father, my dear.” His voice took her away from her musings, returning her mind to the present.

‘Where was I? Oh, right,’ her anger returning once again.

Just when she thought she had found a way to escape from the suffocating manor, the family had once again meddled with her brilliant plans.

Apparently, she did not form part of the whole boarding school experience. (Well, Wayne didn’t)

Due to the many incidents involving her ‘siblings’ and ‘father’ at the school in their scholarly years, they had gained a rather infamous reputation. This led to taking away certain privileges when a member of the Wayne family was to be enrolled at the academy.

Said privileges were not being able to partake in staying at the dorms through the semester.

(aka. Waynes were banned from the academy dorms.)

“I don’t understand why a sudden need to stay in such facilities.” Damian retorted from his place in the backseat. Still giving her the stinkeye for taking the front seat first (she had taken off while yelling ‘shotgun’ through the halls, making Drake get up from his deep sleep and come out of his room to see what was happening with his sheets all tangled on his legs.)

“Pennyworth makes far better meals, and the beds haven’t been thoroughly cleaned in ages. That’s without mentioning having to share your personal space with a stranger who lacks manners.” That last part made her bite her tongue hard.

‘When the irony is ironing,’ She thought sarcastically.

“It’s all about the independence and socializing. Who doesn’t like talking to total strangers and getting to know them while also sharing a bathroom?” Her lips were curling in a grin, her tone letting on very clearly what she was referring to.

Damian tutted, harshly crossing his arms while glaring at her. Alfred simply sighed as he pulled through the metal front gate of the academy.

“Since when do you like socializing, Embarrassment?” He remarked on the nickname with a cold glare at the back of her seat.

And as if she had sensed it, she took off her seatbelt and turned half of her body to the back so she could face him directly. Both of their glares clashed with one another.

Alfred got out of the car to take out her school bag from the back of the car, wondering to himself if he was truly paid enough to deal with teenagers.

Damian was very much annoyed at her new attitude. It was getting on his nerves how she stood her ground and didn’t flatter. He couldn’t have missed this part of her. He was the son of the greatest detective in the world, and he took pride in his deduction skills. And he had deducted his sister from the first moment they met. Never, in a million years, would she have the courage to act like this. Too insecure. Too weak. Too scared.

She would have had to die and be reborn to be acting like this.

“Don’t act like you know me, Damian.” His name sounded like a curse in the making on her tongue. Her deep, dark eyes stared directly into his own, a glint of something akin to sardonic gone the moment she turned back on her seat and opened the car door.

“You don’t have the right to judge. Not then. Not now. Not ever.”

With that, she stepped out and slammed the door shut, leaving him with words in his mouth.

He could only follow her stomping outside towards Alfred out of the corner of his eye, refusing to turn his face a single inch towards them. She seemed to mutter something to the older man, to whom he put a hand on her shoulder and spoke very gently.

Her eyes softened, and Damian couldn’t help but be put off by it.

He was well aware that she used grey contact lenses. She always wore them, no matter what. One would think she would sleep while wearing them, but he knew she wasn’t that stupid.

He never wondered why she used them, scraping it off as some odd fashing trend girls her age were into. They just were part of her and he went along with it. Never putting much thought into it.

Now, Damian was putting a lot of thought into it.

He had always known that he was an almost carbon copy of his father. Black hair, facial structure, etc. There was little doubt about his heritage and he took pride in it.

His half-sibling was another story. No matter how hard she tried to dress, act, talk, and move like them, she didn’t seem to fit in. The cold colors and heavy presence that were very characteristic of the Waynes didn’t suit her.

It had been obvious before, but now it was undeniable to Damian.

And it was all because of those damned eyes.

He wouldn’t dare to say it out loud, maybe just ponder it to himself, only in his thoughts, but Damian wanted her grey eyes back.

Those grey eyes that would crinkle in worry when he came back upset from a bad patrol night. Those grey eyes that would widen in excitement when she looked over his sketchbook and praised his skills. Those grey eyes that were full of softness and care, asking about how his day was at school.

…Maybe he wasn’t missing the grey. Not really.

‘It doesn’t make any sense.’ His mind hissed, making his frown deepen. ‘Why is this bothering me so much? She is just a nuisance and below-’

“Hey! Bobby! Over here!”

Her shout made Damian snap his head towards the car window with a snarl. Which slipped down slowly as he took in the scene happening outside.

She was waving her arm over her head quite fast towards someone. A guy who was smiling way too much for his taste (it almost made him turn away in disgust, but he fought against it), as he moved towards her with a jump in his walk. He looked like an overgrown golden retriever, wearing the academy uniform.

What happened next made Damian’s blood go cold and hot at the same time, his nails sinking into the fabric of his clothes, and his lips pressed tightly.

Because that guy dared to come close to his sister and pick her up in a hug while twirling her around.

Her bright laugh as she was put down, quickly jumping into a conversation with the big oaf while patting down her now wrinkly uniform, made his stomach twist into a feeling he couldn’t quite place yet.

The warmth in her eyes had Damian bite inside his cheek, chest tight as she began to walk away with the guy, with a quick goodbye to a smiling Alfred, who had begun to go inside the car and pull away from the school grounds.

The young boy’s stare didn’t move away from the pair. Not until he lost them out of sight due to the distance.

Who did that guy think he was?! Coming so close to her and acting so touchy with his sister.

Was he a friend? No way. She didn’t have any friends. He was sure.

Was he?

Was he a boyfriend? Ridiculous, there was no way she would have hidden something like that from the family. She wouldn’t.

…Would she?

What else had she been keeping quiet? What else didn’t he know about her? When had she changed? Had she even changed? Was she always like this and he just came to notice? When she grew tired of his prickly nature and sharp words? Did he lose her affection? Was he too late?

Did he lose her without even knowing?

‘No,’ He thought, fingers curled into fists by his side as he gave a glance to the smaller view of the academy through the window.

‘Something is wrong here.’

‘And I will find out.’

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

The academy was huge. It had halls over halls and stairs over stairs. An old smell stuck on the stone walls that gave the building an even more mystic flair, as if the gargoyle statues on every corner of the gate halls weren’t enough. It even had tall stained glass windows that gave a view of the huge campus: the main fountain, the track field, the outdoor gym, and many other places.

It was by pure miracle that she didn’t end up lost. But that was mostly because Bobby would drag her by the back of her school vest whenever she wandered off.

She was very thankful for that, since her ghost companion was not here today to guide her.

Wayne said that she would stay at the manor for the day, something along the lines of that she should experience the full school experience without her help (which screamed bullshit but she wasn’t going to fight her on that. If she was a ghost and had the choice to not go to school, she would also do the same) and trying to find any clues for their small quest.

So now, she was walking by herself for the first time at a school. So exciting, right?

“-and then the coach said I could play in the next game if someone hurts themselves. Which is not bad, but I don’t know. I don’t want anyone to get hurt just so I can prove myself as a player, y’know?”

“Aren’t you here because of a scholarship? Don’t you need to play to be able to stay here?” She asked the stressed boy, who had been talking about this for the past few minutes as they walked towards their third class of the day.

Bobby was from New York, and he had taken a sports scholarship in the academy this very year, so he could get into Gotham University to study accounting. Just like his father, who was a bank accountant back at home.

He formed part of the baseball school team and had been on the bench since he got inscribed into the academy.

Leading to his sudden stress of not having the chance to prove himself.

“Poor athletic performance can lead to losing the scholarship, so yeah. If I don’t play, I could lose it.” He quoted with his shoulders down, a deep sigh leaving his lungs as she patted his shoulder in a small show of support.

They had gotten along quite fast. Probably because Bobby had been the first open person with his thoughts and feelings since she woke up in that nasty pool.

No underhanded comments. No pushiness. No expectations. Always asking if what they were talking about was okay. If she was comfortable with anything.

It was a breath of fresh air, and she felt great hanging around him.

“What if I help you out with practice? I know jackshit about baseball, but I think I can throw some balls so you can practice swinging?” She offered with a shrug as they went into a half full classroom.

Bobby perked up with a huge smile and put an arm over her shoulder, slightly moving her side to side. “Please, and I will buy you ice cream every time after practice.”

That made her snort and shove him off of her playfully by pushing his face away with her hand, making him guaff and laugh.

“Personal space, jeez,” She said as he sat down on the second table and moved a chair back so she could sit beside him.

As he muttered his apologies, she couldn’t help but feel somebody’s stare on her back.

Just when she was gonna look over her shoulder, the bell rang, and everyone took their seats. Conversations quieted down as students began to pull out their books without a second thought.

Following everyone’s lead, she put out her history book with a sigh and kept her eyes downcast.

Now, there were many different stares and murmurs in her direction. From the corner of her eyes, she could see a few classmates whispering to each other or staring openly at her.

‘Yeah, that ain’t gonna fly,’ she thought, twisting her head to give her classmates a dead stare that had them gasping and looking in different directions while pretending they were busy with their phones or books.

“That’s weird,” Bobby’s voice took her away from her successful intimidation. “Professor Jones is usually here before any of us.”

The girl shrugged, leaning back on her chair while she brought one crossed leg on the seat as the other bounced against the floor. “Maybe they got stuck in traffic or somethin-”

The classroom door slammed open, taking all the attention of the students and making the room fall into silence.

A man stepped inside and closed the door behind him, his steps heavy as he walked towards the desk and put down his brown leather handbag on the chair and a pack of old-looking cigars inside one of cabinets.

He didn’t spare a single glance at them, picking up a piece of white chalk and beginning to write on the chalkboard.

He had a heavy build, like the ones that those wrestling guys on TV have, judging by how his shoulders and biceps stood out underneath his dark leather jacket. Some of the girls and a few other guys were staring intensely at his tight jeans, showing off his sculpted legs as well.

What stood out more for her was his hairstyle, spiked on both sides of his black hair.

Once he finished writing on the board, he clapped his hands to shake off the chalk on his palms and turned around with a grunt. A severe frown on his face as he looked over the quiet students.

“Your professor has taken a sudden leave for the rest of the semester.” His gruff tone had people straighten up and glup loudly.

Bobby exchanged a quick look of confusion and uncertainty with her.

This man didn’t look like the type of person to give a history class.

“You may call me Teach or Mr. Munroe. None of that formal stuff. Whoever calls me Professor will give ten laps on the track field, am I clear?” He almost snarled the last part.

Everyone nodded.

The man nodded and sat on the corner of the desk, crossing his arms. His tag necklace glinted with the movement as he pursed his lips in distaste once he saw the books sitting neatly on the desks.

“Now put those books away. We’re learning real history from now on.”

Some students muttered in confusion while a few others cheered as they put the books back in their bags. Bobby almost scrambled and rattled the desk as he took his book away, which made her snort a laugh and put her book down.

As the class continued, bustling with excitement over the new mysterious teacher and his unconventional method of teaching history, she had forgotten the odd stare she felt at the very beginning of class. It had simply slid off her mind.

In the back of the classroom, a guy with golden curls and clear eyes didn’t take his gaze off of her for the rest of the class.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Bruce wasn’t expecting any visits this early in the day.

He had recived plenty of calls from Dick, trying to check on him and see how the investigation on the case had been going but he didn’t pick them up. Tim had gone to stay at the Titans’ tower, claiming his sleep schedule was messed up and staying at the manor wasn’t helping keep him focused on the case (Bruce had the fleeting suspicion that Conner had something to do with that decision.)

He was more than sure that everyone was clear that he wanted to be left alone at the moment.

But Jason couldn’t give two fucks about what Bruce wanted.

The past Robin had parked his bike by the Batmobile, leaving his red helmet hanging by one of the handles of his vehicle. Sauntering towards the concentrated detective, who was sitting in front of the main computer and surrounded by many documents and files both on the screen and on paper.

“You look like shit.”

Bruce only switched the documents in his hands without lifting his head.

“Gordon told me about the bodies.” He answered, a cold tone in his voice.

Jason threw himself on the nearest chair, legs spread as he stared at Bruce’s back with a smug air around him.

“Jealous much?” He snarked. “That I got to them before you did?”

He was pushing his buttons.

Jason wanted to see how far he could get.

He was hoping for a fight, that way he could at least calm down the fury still running in his veins.

“You left them headless, and Gordon is still looking for their fingers, Jason.” Bruce hissed, finally turning around to glare at the guiltless man.

“They had it coming.”

“That was execution, Jason. It’s not how-”

“I ain’t one of your little robins, Bruce,” Jason retorted, leaning forward with his fists curling and gaze flashing green. “I did what you should have done the moment she was attacked.”

“There wasn’t enough proof yet-” The older man argued back, making Jason scoff and get up from the chair harshly.

The outlaw began to roam beneath his jacket, taking out crumbled files and dumping them over the keyboard of the computer. As soon as it hit the surface, pictures and documents fell out of it onto the ground and the desk.

“Take a look at your precious proof.”

Bruce took a moment before picking up a few of the pictures that had fallen on the floor. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened when he realized what the image showed.

It was from a surveillance camera. All the pictures were from different cameras around the city. The school grounds. The city parks. The mall.

And even from the abandoned public pool.

In all of the pictures, she was there. Getting pushed around. Harassed by the same four guys. He could recognize that they had the same uniform as her from the academy. Maybe seniors, since they easily towered over her.

The ones from the school contained different scenarios. Getting a phone flash shoved right in her face. Shoved down the stairs. Pushed on the school fountain. Yanked by her school bag or clothes. Getting too touchy with her, to the point of it being visibly rough.

One of the pictures showed her running in one of the parks, face blurred in panic as she looked over her shoulder at the boys trying to catch up to her.

Another one showed all five of them at the pool. Her on the ground, holding her head as it bled. Two of the boys were crouching down to hold her down while the others lifted a bloody brick.

He slammed the pictures down with a shuddering sigh. Throat tight, cold anger sinking from the tip of his fingers.

How long had this been going on? For how long had she been keeping this quiet? Why had she kept it quiet? Why didn’t she say something?

‘Had she said something? Did she say anything about it?’ His mind came on empty as many questions surfaced.

All those times he had turned her away, her knocks at his office door, and her silent voice asking if he was too busy. Always shutting her down, dreading to see her face and find old ghosts staring back at him.

Was it right there? Did she reach out just for him to turn her away?

Bruce felt a burning sensation behind his eyes.

“The documents are the transcripts of what I managed to get out of them on record.” Jason’s voice sounded far away.

Did she gather up the courage to come to him, and he gave her his back?

“Sick bastards, the lot of them,” Jason spat. “They had been tormenting her for years.”

Did she feel by herself in this? Nobody willing to listen? No one to trust?

“It went on from simply things. Spreading rumors about being into witchcraft and stuff. Saying that she would curse people with her bad luck if they came near her and odd shit like that to isolate her.”

How many times did he even talk to her? How many chances did he allow her to have to tell him about this?

“Then it moved to more physical stuff. Shoving, pushing, typical asshole stuff. Did you notice any bruises on her when she came from school?”

Bruises? What bruises? She was always wearing long sleeves, claiming it was too cold in the manor.

“You did notice, right? They said that it got ugly plenty of times.”

Long sleeves. Even when it was hot out. She always wore them. How could he never piece it together? How many bruises did she hide from Him?

“Bruce? Did you-”

His daughter. Bianca’s child. With long sleeves. Bruises. From that filth. How many? How many times was she hurt? How many times did he not notice? Gods, did she also- Had she also done it to herself? Had she felt there was no other way out of the lonesome existence he had put her into? That he was the one to inflict that on her? That would explain her current attitude. Her anger. Her glares. Her snarls. How could he ever blame her for acting out when it was all on him? Only himself to bla-

The sudden throbbing pain in his jaw snapped him out of his thoughts, making him stumble back as he looked at a fuming Jason with a lowered fist.

“No,” His glare was agitated, chest heaving, and teeth in a snarl. “You don’t get to feel sorry for yourself.”

Bruce took a sharp breath, his gaze lost as the sharpness of Jason’s words cut deep into his throat, making him unable to utter a word.

The younger man pointed a shaking finger at him in anger, taking steps closer towards the shocked man. “Either you fix this and admit you failed her, just like you failed me,”

Jason got up in his face, fist hitting against Bruce’s chest with a shuddering breath. Eyes blazing a toxic green, staring right into his grey ones.

“Or I will make sure that she turns out just like me.”

With that, Jason turned around and stomped to his bike. The engine roaring to life as he took off from the cave without giving him a single look back towards the currently shocked, quiet man.

Bruce then sank to the floor, hands tangled on his hair strands as he took deep breaths. Mind echoing with many words and questions.

But he could only choke out a few words to himself and the air.

“Oh, Bianca, I fucked it up to hell and back, didn’t I?…”

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

The piano room was too silent.

Ever since Cassandra set foot in the manor, the piano room had always been filled with contained noise. The keys echoing down the halls, a soft melody that made her skin embrace the foreign warmth of a ballad repeated over and over, day by day.

She hadn’t heard a single note in the past week.

It made the air in the manor heavy and constricted, the halls darker, and the silence almost unbearable.

Cassandra didn’t plan to pass by the piano room. Her feet just led her wandering steps towards the halfway-opened wooden door. The creaking made goosebumps break out on her skin.

The curtains were closed, and no natural light entered the room. Just a few lamps that flickered every once in a while and a very cold sensation covering her when she stepped inside.

Her legs guided her to the untouched piano. A hand passed over the worn keys, feeling a thin veil of dust under her fingertips.

A shard of guilt stabbed right through her stomach.

She had gotten exactly what she wanted…

Silence.

╰───────────✧──────────────╮

Call it pettiness or whichever useless feeling people came up with, but Cassandra was done with all the noise that she made.

It's always the same song. The same melody. The same lyrics.

She was tired of it.

She stood by the door, staring directly at the young girl who didn’t seem to notice her as she continued to sing that ballad over and over.

“If I can’t reach you, let my song teach you,” the younger girl sang softly, eyes closed as her fingers played smoothly over the keys.

Cassandra clenched her teeth.

She wanted silence.

“All you need to keep our love alive,”

She was tired of her playing.

“If I can’t hold you,”

She was tired of her.

“Remember what I told y-”

“Could you keep it down?”

The girl startled, smashing the keys and making an awful sound. Both of them cringed at it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” She tried to apologize with a stammer as she stood up, stumbling and fidgeting fingers.

But Cassandra didn’t let her finish.

“You don’t know any other songs?” she questioned.

“Not really. My mom only taught me this-”

“Then why play at all?” She didn’t understand. It was useless to know just one song on the piano. A waste of skill and talent, if she were honest. It didn’t make any sense.

The girl took a sharp breath, hands wringing with the hems of her sleeves and fingers. “It’s an important ballad. My mom used to say it was a protec-”

“It’s too loud. Keep it down.”

Cassandra didn’t care about the importance of the song. She just wanted silence. Her ears were ringing, and she could feel a headache coming on if she heard another keynote from the piano.

They stayed quiet for a moment. A slow nod from the younger girl was answer enough for her.

Cassandra turned around and left.

She had blessed silence for the rest of the day.

╰───────────✧──────────────╮

That happened years ago. She still played the song, but kept the door closed and put heavy curtains to muffle some of the noise. It still managed to slip through, but Cassandra didn’t really care as much anymore. It had blended into the background noise of the manor.

It had become part of their daily life. Something that just fitted right in.

And now that it was gone, the absence of it had been loud.

Such a loud silence.

She didn’t like it.

Cassandra hummed to herself, looking around the room one last time before walking outside into the. Leaving the door open behind her.

Maybe she could ask her if she could play again after she came from school? It wouldn’t be too much to ask of her. It wasn’t like the younger girl had done a lot around the manor lately. Just stay in her room all day and night, only coming out to eat and talk with Alfred, and then just go back to her-

‘If I can’t reach you…’

Cassandra came to a full stop at the end of the hallway.

The piano played slowly inside the room.

‘Let my song teach you…’

Her chest became heavy. Throat tight, as if cold fingers wrapped themselves over her shoulders. A wet sensation was sinking through the fabric of her shirt, making shivers go down her spine.

The voice was like a whisper, only for her to hear.

“Am I too loud now?” Cold lips whispered in Cassandra’s ear.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cassandra only managed to see a tangle of wet, dark hair and a bloodshot grey eye with blood dripping down a side of her deadly pale skin.

When she finally got the strength to turn completely around, the hall was quiet. Not a single echo or resonance of the keys was heard.

Cassandra patted herself down quickly, shaking away the sudden cold over her skin. She felt over her shoulders, trying to find any wet spots on her shoulder or near her ear and back.

There was no trace of it.

She left the hall quickly, deciding to put this on the back of her mind as a headache invaded her head.

The lights flickered in the piano room, the door creaking closed by itself.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

“I wasn’t expecting to like history that much.”

It was already past three in the afternoon, the classes had barely been over a few minutes ago.

But Bobby had already dragged her through the halls towards the baseball field so he could practice some pitching and bat swinging. As he had explained excitedly over lunch to her, shortly after Mr. Munroe’s class. It would be just like playing catch, but with some real damage on the side.

She could play catch! She remembered playing it with Billy before!

And with a white haired man.

And by herself, oddly enough…

“I guess Mr. Munroe just knows his stuff,” Bobby suggested, dodging a few students who walked in the opposite direction from them. He then grinned, “You could even say he lived through it with the way he talked about war stories.”

“He can’t be that old.”

“Just saying. I mean, how old could he be?” He quipped with a shrug.

She wheezed a short laugh. “Can’t be older than the Great Depression.”

Both of them were wheezing as they stumbled down the stairs, shoving and hitting each other on the arms and shoulders. That gained them a few odd looks, but they didn’t notice it at all. Too busy fighting to stay upright and keeping air in their lungs.

They made their way through the front doors of the school, taking the outside route but still inside the school grounds to the sports field.

“He has such a stern air around him, too. He kind of gives-”

“Please, don’t even go there.” She pleaded with a hiss. But Bobby only began to whisper loudly to her.

“Hey, everyone was looking at him like a piece of meat.”

“It doesn’t make it right.”

“Oh, please. You totally looked.”

“Did not.” She denied with red ears.

Bobby looked way too smug. “Liaaaarrrr.”

She shoved him, making him burst out laughing as she stomped faster and a couple of steps ahead of him, ready to take a corner.

To which she instantly froze on the spot with a wide-eyed look.

Bobby took notice of her sudden change, still laughing as he looked over her shoulder. “Hey, what’s-”

She quickly pushed him back until they were back to back with the corner wall, away from the view of the hall. Her hand gripping his vest with white knuckles as she looked carefully over the edge. Holding back her breath, cursing to hell and back the person standing by the front gate.

Dick Grayson was leaning against a expensive sports car, looking at his watch every five seconds when he wasn’t looking around the premises and between the groups of students walking around.

‘The fuck is he doing here?!’ She shouted in her head as she bit her tongue.

She had written to Alfred that she was going to stay for a longer time to hang out with Bobby. Why was the touchy asshole here? He was supposed to return to Bludhaven yesterday and give her some peace and tranquility!

“Um, you good?” Bobby muttered, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. She quickly let him go and apologized.

“Sorry,” she grumbled. “It’s my, ugh, brother.”

That last part was said between her teeth. Bobby frowned at that. “I guess you don’t get along, then?”

“Not exactly.” She remarked with a wince, giving a quick glance back towards the gate. He had moved closer.

That wasn’t good.

“We gotta be quick,” she urged, pushing Bobby back slowly as he let her guide him.

Before they could take off without catching too much attention, someone decided it was the right time to yell her ‘last name’.

“Wayne!”

The duo snapped their heads forward, towards the male voice that echoed through the hall. Her eye was twitching in annoyance.

A guy with golden curls and a snobbish air around him approached them with decision and fists curled in fists. He looked furious, and even then she could appreciate his handsome features.

He looked straight out of a magazine, to be completely honest.

“What the hell are you doing?” He hissed in her face, fuming.

If she weren’t in such a hurry, she would have given him a few choice words. But she really needed to run.

“Office hours are closed at the moment, sorry!” She stated, pulling Bobby deeper into the hall behind them. He looked with wide eyes between the three of them.

“Suddenly got a sense of humor?” The guy chided with a roll of eyes, following her steps forward. “Where have you been?! Did you forget about practice?! We have the damned recital in two weeks!”

“Listen,” she fretted, eyes bouncing around to make sure Dick wasn’t nearby. “Right now is not the time to discuss this. I gotta-”

“No, you and I made a deal.” He claimed with a hiss. “I help you with your recital and you-”

“Hun, what is going on here?”

The cold tone made the three teens look at the tight-smiling man who stood beside them. His arms crossed over his chest with his head tilted to the side, blue eyes staring directly at their hands.

Now that she noticed, the two boys had taken hold of her arms while standing between them.

It stayed quiet for a bit. Dick smile becoming tighter and tighter.

‘Fuuuuucckkk-’

“Who are your-”

She didn’t even let him finish. Her legs moved before she could even process it.

It all happened too fast.

She had taken off running, dragging with her the still startled boys down the hall and leaving Dick behind with the words in his mouth. The man also looked caught off guard, yelling after them as he began to run after them.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck-” she repeated over and over while Bobby and Goldielocks shouted at her.

“Unhand me! You’re ruining my shirt!”

“Take a left! Take a left!”

Without thinking about it too hard, she listened to Bobby and took a sharp left. Shoes squeaking as the three of them almost slammed against a poster board, before taking off again.

They took several turns, with mixed shouts and yells between all of them. Mostly with Bobby yelling directions and the other guy screaming in her ear about going too fast.

It all came to an end when all three of them ran over someone.

Well, more like they slammed solidly against someone and crashed to the ground.

They became a tangle of limbs and curses. Bobby was face-first on the ground, complaining about the heavy weight, trying to lift them off the ground but too tired to do so. The goldilocks was cursing while swinging his arms and legs around, flailing like a stray cat. And lastly, the young girl who lay over the two of them with a manic grin on her face and laughing to herself.

‘That felt soooo good!” She gushed as she laughed breathlessly.

It felt so right. Running like that felt so right. She had to do it again! Her heart was about to burst out in excitme-

A gruff grunt made all of them fall into silence. Three heads looking up with a gaping expression.

Mr. Munroe stood before them with a crushed cigar by his feet. An annoyed frown in his face that made them gulp at the same time.

“Drake. Worthington. Wayne.” The teens looked at each other with pale faces.

“Detention. Now.”

…That could have ended worse, to be honest.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Author's Note: The gangs all here! Finally got to introduce Maximoff's core friends! And so much happened in this chapter too! I had so much fun writting it, you guys have no idea. And logan is now in the plot ( I will shove my Storm x Wolverine agenda down your throats and YOU WILL LIKE IT-) Let me know what you guys liked, theorize or go and scream in the asks. I love reciving asks and answering them💖💖 Lots of love and hugs, GG✨

Tag List:

@bat1212 @kneelforloki @1abi @galaxypurplerose @yhin-gg @cxcilla @momentomoribitch @stargirl404 @initial-ari @welpthisisboring @icefox8155 @bunniotomia @alittlelostmoonchild @devotedlyshamelessdetective @shycreatorreview @nirvanaxx1942 @soulsire @ryuushou @rinkydinkythinky @lithiumval @ithoughtthinks @reeyy0-2 @cssammyyarts @lordbugs @ilovecoffe0 @kore-of-the-underworld @fortunatelydifferentqueen @vanessa-boo @livingund3ad @aelxr @im-so-goddamn-tired @lovebug-apple

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hoshigray · 11 months ago

Note

possessive tojikuna 😈🫦

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna + Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! receiving) - face-fucking- double penetration (2 dick kuna, lawl) - doggy style position - clitoral play (licking + pinching) - biting - unprotected sex - pet names (baby, good girl, little bird, princess, wife, woman) - slight degradation - highly possessive behavior - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of drool/spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

You knew something was up. You could tell from the sudden chill in the air as you strode back to the palace grounds and walked down the hall to your shared room at dusk.

The palace was shrouded in an eerie silence, the darkness broken only by the flickering light of the candles that guided your path. The servants, usually bustling with activity, now worked silently, their eyes averted. Even Uraume was unusually quiet as they led you to your room, where your husbands awaited you.

They dismiss themselves once you reach the door, leaving you alone in the hall before the shoji panel door. Breathing silently and slowly through your nostrils, a hesitant hand approaching the handle.

Only for the door to open independently and for you to be yanked by the wrist. You could not foretell what happened after this, yet now you know why the palace life had become unusually stifling.

“—Khhh, ahhhck..!! ‘Kunaa, f-for’ive m—Ahhh!”

“Silence, woman; don’t test me.”

You were stripped of your clothing, nude back to the soft futon, and your entire body dwarfed underneath the massive size of Sukuna. The cursed being has you under him as his lower left hand fingers your chasm, and the upper right arm chokes you by the throat.

The restriction of your airways has you lightheaded, along with the motions of his thick fore and middle finger ravaging your vaginal texture. “Tahhh, ohGodsss…!”

“Hmph, what a whore,” he scoffs with a devilish grin, stuffing his fingers until the hilted knuckle. “So fucking tight on my fingers, you find enjoyment in being punished like this?”

“My King, please,” getting the words out is a battle. “I’m sho—Mmfff!…sho sorry—“

“Sorry for what?” The grip on your throat gets firmer, his thumb big enough to have your blood vessels pulsing for desperation. “For disobeying orders and leaving the fortress or having another man touch you?”

Ah, fuck! You knew this would bite you in the back once you stepped outside. Your husbands were busy with their daily tasks, leaving the fortress walls and instructing you to stay put where it’s safe. However, a specific craving has been growing these past few days, a craving that can only be found in the busy streets of the countryside down south. And since your spouses were out of reach for the day, and Uraume was tending the palace and its subjects as usual, you didn’t want to burden anyone with your selfishness. So, you snuck out at dawn and treaded to the civil human territory on your own.

“Unbelievable,” he curls his digits, which scrape your walls, and your strained cries are taken. “Who told you to leave where you were supposed to be?” His voice is ominous, even in a hushed tone, as he brings his face closer to you. “Who told you that you could let others touch you?”

“Kunaaa, please, forg’ve me,” the nickname doesn’t lessen the hold on your windpipe. “I was…just getting fruits from the town…And then I’d return—“

“You disobey me for some fruits?” Crimson eyes glint darkly. “And then have that cretin hold your hands—hold what’s mine?”

The pound of your head worsens by the seconds, and the mouth of his stomach chews on the flesh of your tummy. God, this is too much…! “…I–I’m so sorry, my King…I didn’t m–mean to offend you, but my body is only—ghhh—for my hus–bands!”

“Today said otherwise—“

“It was not intentional!” I can’t…breathe…Your cunt tenses from a graze to your upper wall, your eyes watering. “Please, my love, there’s no one else my heart belongs to…I swear on my blood.”

Finally, he releases your throat from his death grip, yet you’re not given time to gather much air as his hand comes to your cheeks to snatch. Panting heavily as your eyes stay on his, whimpering as he removes his digits from your aching slit.

The giant huffs with a smirk at the sight of your tears. “Well, I’m not the only one you should swear to, wife.”

Of course, he isn’t; there’s another man in the room witness to your comeuppance. Once Sukuna withdraws himself from your proximity, your trembling figure moves off your back and crawls to the next person who stands on his knees. And you greet him with licks and kisses to his abs. “Toji…” your hands roam to his waist.

“Hey, baby,” emerald eyes observe you. “Got y’rself into trouble today. Didn’t think I wouldn’t see you outside after bein’ told not to?”

“I’m sorry—Mmmm…” you sense Sukuna’s hands keep your ass in place, and the lower other fingers your asshole. Your breath hikes at the contact of the tip of both his cocks, teasing your holes. Something slaps on your cheek, and Toji snickers.

“If y’re really sorry,” the dark-haired man pushes the cockhead to your lips. “Suck this dick like I like it.”

The simultaneous push of Sukuna’s cocks takes your breath, and your mouth is stuck on an indefinite ‘o’ shape. Toji takes advantage and shoves the tip into your mouth. Moans are mumbled, holes puckering to the slow push and pull of the colossus’ hips. After a few seconds, you begin to bob your head and suck.

“Hmmm, bad girl,” Toji grabs for the back of your head. “So busy with y’r lil’ outing that you didn’t notice me see you, walkin’ in the crowd and talkin’ with the townspeople,” he holds his breath from the sight of you lapping your tongue around the glans, precum oozing to your tastebuds. “And then be too friendly with those farmers, laughin’ and talkin’ too close to ‘em.”

You suck on his glans and with a hum. “Mmahh, I wasn’t planning on staying for too long,” you kiss and suck on the skin of the underside of his shaft until you meet his balls. Your tongue swirls on his testes, “I was just being polite—Ahhh!”

“Way too polite,” Sukuna smacks your butt, spawning a mouth to his palm to chew on the flesh to erupt a cry. Another bite comes from his lower right on your waist. “Might as well have asked them to come over.”

“Right…Hnngh!” Toji loves how you guzzle on his testicle. “Is that what ya want, princess? Have some strangers come here and see how much of a slut you are for our dicks, huh?” He yanks you by the chin, your expression already enhancing to a daze. “Wanna let ‘em have a go with you?”

It’s hard to answer as Sukuna ruts increase in pace, toes curling at the rub of your inner walls. “Ghhahh, n-no…! I don’t want anyone else to—shiiit—t-touch me like you do!” Sounds of skin slapping against each other from behind have you twitching even harder. Sukuna places his upper right arm to place on your shoulder to bite on your shoulder, while the lower left slither to your clit for the tongue of his palm to lap and tease.

“Fuuuck, pussy so tight,” the behemoth sighs deeply. “Feel so good, shit isn’t meant for anyone outside this room.” His hips dial to a sporadic rhythm, shivers crawling up his spine as you scream all cutely from his movement. “All mine,” He bends to speak behind your nape. “All fucking mine.”

“Yesss, ahaaaa,” you howl out with your face smooshed to Toji’s pelvis, your hands stimulating his erection. “I only belong to you, my loves, only you…” you take in Toji’s tip once more, whimpering as his length busy your mouth inch by inch.

“Good girl, good girl,” Toji praises you from above, the hand on your head keeping you glued to him while the other husband has his way with you. Soon enough, both his strong palms come to your face, and he essentially fucks your face like a toy, your jaw loosening to make the process easier.

Sukuna grabs for your arms and pulls you back but doesn’t stop Toji from fucking your face till the hilt meets your lips, and his balls knock your chin. You’re nerves are heightened, stimulated by the onslaught of pleasure on both ends. Your cunt and anus spasming around the limbs pushing to and fro, and your mouth mumbling on the dick, hitting the back of your throat.

And it doesn’t take long for your climax to steer you off, your frame trembling uncontrollably as you jerk and quaver under the bow of these men. Toji and Sukuna find it amusing, the hand on your clit pinching the bud.

“Hmph, cumming on my cocks like crazy.” The salmon-headed one playfully smacks your ass as your entrances flutter from the aftershocks. “Apology accepted, little bird; consider this a warning until the next time you transgress.”

Toji removes his cock from your mouth, strings of blended saliva and come leave the messy opening. “Now, ya know, princess. C’mon, lemme have my turn.”

2K notes · View notes

sightseertrespasser · 2 months ago

Text

Odds of Survival part 9

Jazz has an itty bitty teeny weeny severe mental breakdown.

Credit once more to @keferon for starting this au.

———————————————————————

Jazz never thought he’d find himself deeply empathizing with the xenomorph from Alien, but here he was.

Doing freak shit.

A lone lifeform trapped on a spaceship with no idea how their technology works, no means of escape and no way to sustain themselves. Skittering across the ceiling and one wrong move away from murdering someone on contact.

Plus, I pop out of my mecha like an actual motherfucking chest burster. So I’m sure that’ll go over GREAT.

The parallels were compounding into existential crisis territory.

It got way too fucking close handling that checkup with the medic. Trying to keep his cool felt like he was trapped in an hours long quick time event. Every question had to be snap judged for the safest possible answer. Completely make shit up and risk getting caught in the act, don’t give away any information and they’ll know you’re hiding something.

Jazz juggled that damn Catch 22 like a professional. Thank you.

Case in point, while one of his mechas arms was still non functional, Jazz managed to maneuver his actual arm inside the cabin to grope around for some water to chug. Without disconnecting from the mecha.

That particular stunt felt like splitting his brain in half with a splintery wedge. The water was absolutely necessary, but the pressure inside his skull rang like an air horn zip-tied open.

Right now the only coherent thought he could form was the overwhelming animal desire to find a dark hidden hole and crawl up inside it. Then repeat that motion by disconnecting from his mecha, finding the most secure hiding spot inside that, and passing out for oh just a quick little 24 to 36 hours.

The pilot paused. Down the hall, mechas- giant alien robots- had noticed his disappearance. Even through the language barrier, Jazz would recognize the opening lyrics to his personal theme song anywhere: “Oh fuck where’d he go?”

Hidden behind rows of pipes, Jazz counted his inhalations until the thuds of metal feet passed him by.

Was the alien invader from The Thing scared? If it had finished building its spaceship would the Thing really have tried to take over the world? Or was it just desperate to go home?

Jazz was panting. Or maybe hyperventilating. He made a conscious effort to pull air through his grit teeth at an even flow. Even though he couldn’t actively feel his human body, the dull droning dread pressed through the disconnect to whisper “You’re running out of time.”

He didn’t know how long he had left before his stupid flesh sack would start giving out, but he needed to be somewhere safe when it happened. He’d make it. He’d make it because he had to to make it. He was the best goddamn pilot in the entire program and that was for one reason and one reason alone: Failure Was Not A Motherfucking Option.

If his options were do it the hard way or not at all, then the hard way was what the world got.

Once the guards passed, Jazz slunk along the wall, reaching upside down to fry another security pad, only for the door to open automatically.

Risking it, Jazz peaked into the room and not seeing or hearing anyone, slipped inside.

Once the door slid shut behind him, Jazz lowered himself to the ground one handed, scanning the room more thoroughly.

More screens, inactive. A chair and a couch. Miscellaneous wall kibbling, a table, cabinets. Windows.

Jazz gasped.

Glowing clouds of light, layered like sheets stretching into infinity. Star clusters like paint splatters on black velvet.

White and amber. A haze of something pink.

Unconsciously, Jazz moved towards the window, until he could lightly tap his visor against the glass. His field of view consumed by galaxies.

Back when they first launched him into space, Jazz had come to terms with the let down that all he’d get to see was a black slate and maybe a couple dots. The space station didn’t have many windows to start with, and all his space walks took place when the sun was “out”, so Jazz never really got to see as much of the Milky Way as his inner child hoped.

Now, the child was quiet. Face pressed against the glass, Jazz felt his throat closing up.

At least I got this. Even if I’ve got a half life, I got to see the stars the way they were meant to be.

He hovered. Wanting to find a song to match this moment, but couldn’t find anything more fitting than his own breathing. The rush of blood in his ears was still loud, but a white noise that could substitute for silence.

Like a marble rolling off a table, Jazz felt his stomach drop a moment before his conscious mind could follow.

“It’s wonderful isn’t it?”

Jazz had his arm cocked back to turn the poor fuckers face into a plate but locked himself mid swing at the last second. The mech had lifted a tablet to protect himself, and the move was such a Bullied Nerd cliche it stopped Jazz cold.

Now that his heart rate was breaking highway speed limits again, the angry radio static that was his racing thoughts drowned out any coherent thoughts of what to say.

The mech peeked out from behind the tablet and wow. That’s a guy. That’s just a straight up dude. Prowl and Elita were bulky enough that Jazz could at least imagine where a pilot could sit. But this guy? He looked like the only thing he could throw out was his back. Jazz didn’t even know “elderly twink” was a look possible for a giant robot.

Mystery Codger was staring at him. Jazz still had a fist raised.

Do something say something do something say something you fucked up you fucked up either kill him or start lying just do anything brain please.

“Could you help me find my glasses?”

Jazz faltered. “Wu- What?”

The mech uncurled from his brief defensive huddle. “My glasses? Spectacles? Ah, object-sight-improve-positive?”

The pistons in his arm faintly hissed as the tension released.

Maybe-

As if this was all normal, the mech gently set the tablet on the table, before squatting and squinting at the floor.

Maybe I just have actual brain damage.

Acting on mental autopilot, Jazz took the opening to behave like a normal person. Crouching and scanning the floor for giant alien robot spectacles.

“My name is Rung by the way. I actually don’t think we’ve met previously.” Rung said that last bit with an odd inflection Jazz didn’t have the brain power to think about.

“Jazz. We definitely haven’t met.” He couldn’t quite keep the exhaustion from making that last bit come out snippy.

Rung simply hummed and continued his search. For his part, Jazz was taking the moment to center himself, preparing the best mask he could on short notice.

How long could he keep faking it? Prowl had been with him since he woke up and he didn’t show any signs of needing to sleep. They had doctors. Prowl cared enough about his “health” to take him to one. If Jazz collapsed in front of anyone, they’d drag his sorry ass back to the medbay and it’d be game over. He couldn’t just ask for a place to crash or else he ran the risk of tipping them off he wasn’t one of them if they really didn’t sleep.

A faint tapping sound made him twitch in his stupor.

“Now where could the blasted thing have gone.” Rung was sat crossed legged on the ground.

With Jazz. Who’d vaguely crumbled into a kneeling ball under a table.

Jazz stared at Rung tapping his glasses against his chin. The orange mech made eye contact, and Jazz swore to god he caught him smile.

He reached out a hand, pointing, “Found ‘em.”

The smile came to fruition. Rung aha-ed and held his glasses before himself, inspecting them fondly.

“All that trouble for such a small problem. And all I needed was to ask for help.”

Jazz let himself sag slightly against the wall. Dully thudding the back of his head. “Okay. I’ll cop that was a good trick.”

“It did pull you out of your spiral didn’t it?” Rung said sounding way too smug. He pulled a cloth out from where-ever-the-fuck and cleaned his glasses with it.

He’d been seeing these mechs pull out and disappear objects all day like a bunch of Looney Toons characters. That kind of lapse in logic didn’t bode well for Jazz’s mental condition.

He let his eyes close, rationing his remaining focus.

“How’d you know that’d work?” He mumbled.

“You seemed afraid. You stalled out when you saw I was afraid.” Rung simply stated before he then asked rhetorically, “You’re a protector aren’t you?”

Jazz made a noncommittal sound. Lying was his first impulse, but he really didn’t feel like giving this guy more material to hook him with.

The mech laughed once anyways, “You are. Unorthodox too. I can see why you have such a hold over Prowl.”

That got his attention, “I do?”

“Oh yes.” He heard Rung shift into a more comfortable position on the floor. “Even if he can’t recognize the feeling anymore, I think you give him hope.”

Jazz wanted to laugh and he would if he had the energy.

Instead Jazz sighed. “I’m kinda at rock bottom right now man. And currently? Lil bit fresh outta hope myself.”

And ideas.

Jazz was of the opinion that any problem was solvable if you were willing to get crazy enough, but this was like trying to solve treading water a million miles from shore with only sharks for company. He either drown slowly or get torn apart the moment the sharks realized he was there.

“Hopeless mechs don’t stop to stare at the stars in wonder, Jazz.” When he opened his eyes, Jazz saw Rung staring him down like he was insulted. “To be hopeless is to let yourself die. Do you intend to die today?”

“No.” He challenged back, body minutely tensing.

“Are you willing to do absolutely anything to keep living?” Rung poked him in the chest.

“Yes.” He responded just as quickly, but there was a rasp to his voice. Something small and quiet. Not easily caught. Not easily killed.

“Even ask for help?” Rung quirked his head at him, shit eating grin growing by the second.

Jazz deflated, groaning loud enough for his mecha’s speakers to vibrate his bones.

“Look, I appreciate the therapy session doc, but asking for help is legitimately not an option for me right now.”

Rung leaned forward, resting his chin on a servo, “Alright then. List your current alternative options that you alone can accomplish, devoid of any assistance whatsoever.”

Jazz didn’t respond.

The silence continued to linger.

“Go on.” Rung gestured.

Cornered, Jazz could feel his horns pin back and a burning sensation in his eyes. He rubbed a hand over his visor even though it didn’t actually help.

“Where’s Prowl?”

Rung chuckled, victorious. The scrawny orange mech scooted out from under the table and stood, offering a servo to Jazz to do the same.

The brief rest left Jazz jelly limbed, which was evidently bad enough to translate to a faint tremble in his mecha. Despite that, Jazz didn’t take Rungs hand because there’s no way in hell that guy could support him if he fell. Elita’s threat over harming her crew was still fresh and shiny in his mind.

“You’ll find his office down that way.” Rung pointed out the direction. “Down the hall, turn left at the first junction, pass by two more doors, turn right at that junction and then keep walking until you reach the end of the hall. His office isn’t labeled but I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”

Rung opened the door and then took a seat in the chair next to the couch. “I’d offer to have Prowl come to meet you here, but I have another appointment coming up shortly.”

Oh uh. He actually is a therapist.

Jazz laughed humorlessly, “Why not invite them to join the party? Make it a group session.”

Avoiding eye contact, Rung fiddled with a stylus, “Ah, that would not do I’m afraid. My next patient recently figured out how to “bite” people by quickly jabbing his helm forward and I’d rather that not be your first encounter with him.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Jazz simply nodded numbly.

He paused at the doorway, running the directions through his head again, before turning back slightly. “Hey Rung? Thanks.”

“It’s Rung, and you’re… welcome?” The mech trailed off, looking at Jazz with surprise as the door slid shut behind him.

Walking away, Jazz got about thirty feet before realizing he couldn’t turn his head too quickly or else he’d start seeing double. Feeling the countdown drop into double digits, Jazz hurried along Rungs path.

And nearly crashed into another mech.

It had a head like an old school security camera, a single yellow camera lense cycling down to a pinprick at his appearance. The chassis was crazy long and pointed. Out of habit, Jazz tried mapping out what the interior would look like. The pilot seat would need to be horizontal but it was pretty doable. The limbs were definitely on the skinny side but sharp and fast looking. Bonus points for what was definitely front mounted guns.

All in all, solid design. 7/10.

“Hey.” The mech rasped.

Oh fuck right, Alien.

“Sup.” Jazz replied eloquently.

The camera lense eye loosed, upgrading to a coin sized pupil and clearly looking him over.

“Empurata?” The mech said casually pointing to his legs and visor.

“Uh, sure.” Jazz shrugged.

“Same.” Nodded camera-head.

“Cool.”

The two of them awkwardly stood in the hall. Camera-head seemed content to block traffic and Jazz was mentally banging rocks together in hopes of getting a spark of intelligent thought.

“Can I peel off your visor with a knife?”

The mech held a dagger pinched between its crab claws and Jazz had to bite his tongue not to ask why it didn’t just use those.

Instead, the brain rocks came through.

“Rung lost his glasses.” Jazz threw up a thumb, gesturing over his shoulder. “Needs help. Now.”

Good job brain rocks.

“What? He does?” The mechs head popped up like some kind of fucked up goose, before shoving past Jazz, knocking him into the wall.

“HOLD ON DOC I’M COMING!”

The mech folded inside out into a mother fucking helicopter?! Charging down the hall in a whirlwind so strong Jazz could feel it through his mecha.

Jazz counted to five, and crawled back up into the safety of the ceiling pipes.

He blinks, and he’s staring down another hall. Left turn, two doors, right turn. . . Wait. Was that a right or left he just did? He’s upside down so everything should be reversed right?

He doesn’t remember blinking but the hall is at a different angle. New hall? Or did he just turn his head?

Jazz wants to press the heels of his palms into his eyes until everything holds still but he can’t. So he keeps moving. Keeps hiding.

And then he sees the most beautiful goddamn mech in the universe marching down the hall. Followed by half a dozen substantially less impressive mechs with guns drawn.

Stilling, Jazz remained hidden behind the pipes. Evidently alien robots had the same peripheral blindness to ceilings that human security guards did, as none of them noticed him.

Except for Prowl.

Through the gaps, Jazz watched as Prowl gave rapid fire orders to the armed soldiers behind him. Six mechs. Six guns. Three too many for Jazz to take in his current state. Prowl went silent and his wings twitched. Shivering, Jazz got the deeply uncanny sense he was being intimately observed.

The lights were ringing in a tinnitus B flat. He had the audio feed from his mecha dialed way too high but he couldn’t afford to miss any detail of what would happen next.

Whatever Prowl was said next, it must have been in his native language. Which Jazz found deeply unfair after all the work he’d put into learning Common.

The black and white mech turned to his cohort, waving them down the hall ahead of them. Prowl did not follow, wings still minutely shifting position. Once they were out of sight, Prowl turned on his heel back the way he came. Flicking a single piercing look to Jazz.

Silently. Shakily. Jazz skulked along the shadows after him.

He mental map was fucked. Every time he blinked, Jazz lost track of the most recent few seconds of his life. If Prowl wasn’t stopping every fifty feet to not-so-subtly check that Jazz was still following him, the human didn’t know where he’d end up.

Finally, Prowl reached a door at the end of a hall and entered without any delay. Jazz dropped, moving inside before the door could close again.

“Please don’t freak out.” Jazz cut him off before Prowl could set the tone of this conversation. The mech closed his mouth and after a moment’s consideration, assumed a tense but mostly neutral stance.

“I will not ‘freak out’.” Prowl looked like wanted to say more, but Jazz couldn’t afford that right now.

“Awesome! Because right now I’m freaking out and I won’t be able to keep it together if you start freaking out too.” He was pacing back and forth, not really seeing the mech beside him anymore.

“Jazz.” A servo caught his elbow, stopping him in place. “Where have you been?”

“Oh you know. Here. There. Ceiling mostly. Shockingly unrelated, but I think a talking helicopter wants to wear my face as a hat.” Jazz nodded way too enthusiastically in a manner he hoped translated into an appropriately manic “Please god help me.” grit toothed grin.

Prowl was momentarily speechless before physically shaking off the latest deluge of confusion, “That sounds like Whirl. You would not have encountered them had you stayed in the med bay like you were supposed to. Now I’m asking you again: What are you doing and why are you doing it?”

Audibly cracking, Jazz tried to answer honestly but found his voice locked up. He couldn’t, why couldn’t he..? Why was talking suddenly so fucking hard?

Meanwhile, Prowl just looked defeated. He rubbed that spot between his eyes, not yet letting him go.

“If you cannot provide a reasonable explanation for your sudden shift in behavior, I will have to assume the worst. You leave me no choice but to-“

“I’M REALLY SHORT.” Great. Fantastic. Incredible work brain. Take five.

Prowls optics flickered. Brow furrowing as he looked up at Jazz’s clearly taller mecha.

“That’s not- I mean-.” Jazz clasped his head in his hands, switching back to English. “{I- I- don’t know if this is even real.}”

Something was gripping his arms. Black and white appeared in his vision. “Jazz, please. I can’t help you if I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Common was easy to learn but right now it felt like Jazz was playing Scrabble with a bad hand.

“Prowl, where do you go when you- when you change-body-shape?” He had to stop to breath midway.

Please, please, please this is the last chance for anything to make sense.

But instead the mech slowly shook his head in disbelief, “Where do I..? Nowhere Jazz, it’s still me, I’m not ‘going’ anywhere. My alt form is not a different person.”

The mech gently pulled Jazz’s hands off his head from where he’d been stressing the damage from earlier. “I understand if you’ve never seen an alt mode before but your behavior, your questions, they’re not making any sense.”

Prowl stopped. Optics going wide as placed his servos on Jazz’s wrists. “Jazz are you Crashing?!”

“What? What is that what you call a mental breakdown? Cause yeah I’m having one of those.” He said a little too breathlessly.

“Sit-“ Prowl pulled him down to the floor. “Sit down. I’m calling for a medic.”

“No!” Desperately, Jazz grabbed onto Prowl who was helpless but to join him on the floor. The floodgates opened and Jazz couldn’t stop.

“No no no no, please god no. They’re gonna find out. I need to to tell you. I need to tell you myself. Just, please I’m begging you don’t do it. Give me a chance. Just give me a chance to explain, I don’t want to wake up on a table, please Prowler.”

For his part, Prowl was handling the situation as well as to be expected. He didn’t try to leave again but did get into a more comfortable kneeling position next to the panicking mecha.

“Alright. Alright, I won’t leave. Speak.”

Jazz tried tapping an alternating rhythm on the floor, giving himself literally anything else to focus on. He swallowed back bile and his thrashing fight or flight instincts.

“I’m not-“ Jazz grit his teeth. Telling the truth felt like trying to pop a dislocation back into place. Actually no. Jazz had done that before and it had felt infinitely less unnatural than what he was trying to do now.

Prowl was patient. Bless his heart, motor, whatever he’s got in there. Remaining silent beside him.

The pilot forced himself to take complete breaths, “l. Am not. The same. As you.” One, one two, one two, one two, Jazz counted in time.

“I noticed.” Prowl stated flatly, then softening his expression, “You hadn’t realized you were an alien until now, didn’t you?”

Jazz laughed a little too hysterically, “No, no I Fraggin’ did not. Please don’t freak out.”

“Jazz, you are hardly the first alien species I’ve ever encountered. At least you actually look like a person.”

The pilot got very, very quiet.

“Prowl, what do you think of organics.” Resolutely, Jazz stared down the floor panels, refusing to look anywhere else.

Momentarily, Prowl opened his mouth to speak and shut it again. He shifted to kneel in front of Jazz. Sharp optics darting across his frame. Lightly, Jazz could feel him trace something along his undamaged shoulder. He shivered against his will.

“Jazz.” Prowl got down to where he had to look at him. He spoke so, so softly, “Were you created by organics?”

Well, when a mommy human and a daddy human love each other very much…

“You could say that.” Jazz rasped instead.

He hadn’t even moved, but the energy in the air just went burning cold. Prowl went from soft to deathly serious so fast Jazz visibly flinched.

“Listen to me. You do not have to go back. You do not ever have to go back. I swear on everything I stand for I will not let another one of those things anywhere near you again.” Unintentionally, Prowl was crowding into his space.

Despite himself, Jazz just kept drawing himself in smaller and smaller as Prowl closed in.

“No no no no you don’t get it, that’s not what I meant. That’s not what I am!” He started quiet and steadily grew in volume.

Prowl wasn’t getting it. Instead, raising his voice to match, “No you are wrong! You have a choice now! You aren’t just your function and you aren’t just something they made to die!”

He grabbed Prowl by the shoulders, shaking him, “I DID CHOSE THIS. I KNOW I’M GONNA DIE, BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M FUCKING TALKING ABOUT.”

“Then what ARE you talking about?!” He shouted back.

“I’M ONE OF THEM.” His microphone peaked, and his voice broke.

The quiet hurt. Anything that wasn’t numb hurt. He gulped down air and couldn’t keep more than one eyelid up at a time.

Prowl ground his jaw tightly, practically steaming from reeling back a sense of calm by force, “You are not shorter than me. You are not thinking straight. And You. Are not. An organic.”

Jazz only semi involuntarily rolled his eyes.

“Fuck it.”

He disconnected, and everything hit at once.

Vision went and came back out of focus and way too close. His ears were ringing too badly to hear the sound of his mecha’s chest plates opening, though he knew that they were.

Every fiber of muscle in his body was torn and screaming, he’d throw up later if he had the strength. Jazz did not so much stand as he did lift off the pilot seat and then buckle forward. The hard shell of his pilot suit saved his knee from getting gouged by the corner of the platform he was slipping off of.

That’s fine. He’d land on the steps.

Except, his mecha had been leaning forward hadn’t it?

Like a rag doll, over the edge he went. A huge and blurry and black shape rushing to meet him.

———————————————————————

Is Jazz capable of telling the truth when it’s to save his life? No.

Will he do it out of spite just to prove someone wrong? Yes.

Also, secret props to @somerandomcockroach for showing how fun Rung is to write.

Bonus bit, Prowl finally let his EM field loose far enough for Jazz to notice! It was bad.

-SSTP

<- First Last ->

#tf mecha universe #writing

829 notes · View notes

moonlight-prose · 9 months ago

Note

I saw that prompt list you reblogged and so if you’re looking for logan ideas i really liked:

10) finding their partner’s sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them

Love your fics btw too!!! 💜💜

hunger

a/n: oh my brain went to mush at this one. like actively i've lost brain cells and am currently scrounging to find more. this is basically me being a horny bitch for this man. (possibly cause i'm ovulating). but that's okay. we're all here to do the exact same thing!

summary: things are set into motion the second logan opens your drawer. suddenly you find yourself the center of a show with only one audience member.

word count: 1.7k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, hints at oral (f receiving), cigar smoking, voyeurism, dirty talk, he's so filthy i blushed writing this.

Accidental was far from the word he'd use to describe the current situation. He'd rather say it was intentional. At least that's what it felt like when you sent him to your drawer for a pair of clean boxers you stole from him in the first few weeks of dating. Logan was used to the act. Finding his flannels strewn throughout your closet—his leather jacket draped across the foot of your bed like a fancy throw blanket.

He felt it before he saw it. The soft silicone feel of something small—an uninteresting object he normally would have overlooked. He pushed it out of the way at first, mistaking it entirely for the little portable charger you usually keep by the bed.

Only for it to roll to the side, the button hitting the drawer. A loud buzz drew his attention close within seconds. His hand grasping the small vibrator and flicking it off with a smirk. A look he wore when the choice to fuck you into the mattress solidified in his mind.

"Hey what's taking so long?" You stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel—water droplets streaming off your naked body, forming a small puddle on the hardwood floors of your shared bedroom.

He close his fist around the small device when he stood, holding the clothes you were waiting for. Logan watched you smile, reach for his hand, and stop short as his other palm opened—revealing the black little toy you only kept for emergencies.

For nights when he was called on a mission that might land them in deep waters for days on end. You never minded—it was part of the job after all—but telling Logan that you fucked yourself in your spare time to ease the thoughts of him that plagues you...wasn't an easy conversation to have. Yet there it was. Staring directly at you; taunting you with the knowledge that he found it before you could locate a better hiding spot.

"Got somethin' to tell me bub?"

Your mouth dried at the sight of his grin—nostrils flaring as your scent sharpened in the air. Thicker than before; the tell tale sign that you weren't angry or irritated. But interested in where he might take this.

Before you could snatch it from his hands, he tossed the clothes back into the still open drawer. His smile on deepening at the sight of your swallow—the steady thrum of your heart now a quick flutter under your chest. There was no hiding how you felt with him. Not when he was so in tune with your body it nearly scared you.

He could smell the pool of slick that began to form in between your clenched thighs. The sharp breath you sucked in giving him enough confirmation to keep going. You wanted this—him. And though he could never understand why, he rarely questioned it.

So he nodded towards the bed, dragging the chair you kept at your desk over to sit a foot away from where you were perched. Your hand still clutching the towel and eyes stuck on the vibrator in his hold.

Logan lowered himself with a sigh—legs spread and body relaxed as your eyes trailed down his stomach to the thick expanse of his thighs. Last night you were perched on one, reduced to a whiny moaning mess as he dragged you along the rough denim. Watching you work yourself into a high that left you immobile.

His head tilted, gaze dragging down your body, tongue swiping out to wet his bottom lip. "You aren't gonna need the towel bub," he rasped.

"I don't know what we're doing."

"Don't you trust me?" You nodded quicker than you expected. "Then drop it and spread those pretty legs for your old man."

A soft whimper barely legible above your gasp echoed in the room. Logan heard it as if you pressed it directly to his ear. You scooted back on the bed, the towel now forgotten and dropped to the floor. He shifted at the sight of your feet pushed against the soft comforter, your cunt on full display for him to view.

"There we go," he murmured.

Your hand slipped down, sliding through your slick for barely a second before he was clicking his tongue. "That's not what I want."

"B-but you said-"

"I said spread 'em. Not touch your pretty little clit."

"Logan," you breathed, fighting the pull that demanded you find some sort of relief. Even if that came in the form of your own touch.

He merely lounged in the chair, smiling at how you battled with yourself in order to be good for him. Oh how he loved the sight of your brows pulled together—need eating away at the very core of your body. If he was a better man he'd let you choose what to do.

He'd follow your lead.

But that remained something he never excelled at.

"Don't worry. She'll get the attention she needs." He leaned over you, placing the familiar device between your breasts—a kiss quickly snuck against your nipple that peaked under the wet heat of his mouth. "I'm real interested in how you use this sweetheart. Show me?"

The breath escaped you with a punch to your stomach as he settled back in his previous spot. You glanced at him—heat spilling beneath your cheeks—and felt a wave of slick drip down to the bed at the sight of him pulling a cigar free. He cut the end off, stuck it between his teeth, and flicked the lighter on with practiced ease.

This was a show and he remained the only audience member.

"Go on," he mumbled, smoke unfurling past his lips. "Be a good girl."

With a shaky breath, you gingerly picked up the vibrator and turned it on. This was second nature to you now. Laying in bed with your legs spread as you listened to the buzzing sound that would bring you your desired orgasm. You'd been here before. You would no doubt be here again.

Only this time Logan paid attention to every minuscule movement. He clung to the way you slid your hand down and pressed the end of it to the very top of your clit. Almost as if you were the best fucking program he had the privilege to watch.

Instead of the rush of sweaty embarrassment you almost expected. You were greeted with a boost of pride at the sound of his harsh groan. The chair creaking under his weight as he shuffled to find some relief for his growing cock.

"How's it feel bub?" he breathed, inhaling another drag from his cigar.

You sighed, high pitched and needy. "Good."

"Yeah?" He shifted again when you slid the vibrator through the lips of your cunt, a moan spilling past your parted lips. "Fuck. You normally take your time with it?"

Nodding, you dragged it back up to your clit, teasing yourself with small circles. "F-Feels better like this."

That familiar tug in your gut began to grow the longer you held it against yourself, building quicker than before. You knew it was on account of him watching you. Licking his lips and white knuckling his cigar to keep from sliding his tongue through your slick. You had half a mind to beg him. To see if you could get him to break.

The minute you slipped it down further and plunged it into your tight walls was enough for him. He snapped with a feral grunt. His hands working the belt buckle of his jeans—a whisper of his zipper being tugged down—before his cock sprang free. The tip red and shiny with precum.

You moaned at the sight, legs trembling as you pumped the vibrator clumsily into your cunt. "Touch yourself," you gasped, stomach going taut. "Please. Need to see you baby."

"Fuck sweetheart. Gonna make me cum like a fuckin' teenager." He spit loudly into his palm, slicking up his cock with a heady moan.

"P-Pretty," you slurred.

"Look whose talkin'," he huffed. The cigar now clamped between his teeth.

The intensity of his gaze only grew when you replaced the device with two of your fingers. Rapidly working them in tandem with the buzzing on your swollen clit. Sparks shot down your spine, heat clamping tight around your stomach. What time you thought remained now worked its way to an eviscerating crescendo.

"Your creamin' around your fingers bub," he grunted, the wet slap of his hand blending with the echo of your cunt. "Want to lick you clean after this."

Your walls fluttered, heart leaping to your throat. "Can I suck your cock?"

A ragged moan filled the empty spaces that lay between. "Can't say no to you."

"Logan," you mewled. "'M gonna-"

He snarled, abruptly sitting forward, hand still working his cock in rapid strokes. "C'mon. Cum for me. Give me a show."

The string holding you together broke in two, flooding your body with bliss and turning your vision blurry. His name was a broken cry torn from your throat—hips canting up into your touch as you pushed the vibrator harder against your clit. Until the pleasure began to seep into pain. A whimper echoed in the room when you pulled away, legs falling to dangle off the bed—body now entirely spent.

The soft press of his lips against your knee jolted you slightly; the nerves under your skin still sensitive. He dropped to the floor, eyes latched onto the way your entrance fluttered, cum now forming a mess between your thighs.

"Made such a pretty mess for me bub."

You sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. "You like it?"

Wet open mouth kisses trailed along your inner thigh, his nose pressed to the curls above your center. "I fuckin' love it," he sighed, inhaling your heady scent with a groan.

"It's yours."

You gasped when his tongue slid along your cunt, thumbs spreading you to reach every fucking inch. "Yes it is." He pressed a kiss to each lip, sucking them into his mouth as if he was kissing you. "All fuckin' mine."

#logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #my writing

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mmywanda · 5 months ago

Note

mommy!wanda teaching innocent reader how to suck her strap ??👀

men & minors dni !!

—

Mommy!Wanda had slowly introduced you to new things, such as camomile tea, homemade treats.. and bedroom activities.

You had always been an innocent little thing, so oblivious to the endless possibilities when it came to pleasure.

Wanda enjoyed corrupting you very slowly, like starting to slide her tongue into kisses, mentioning how wonderful if it would be to play with new toys.

Her next idea was to introduce you to her strap-on. Mommy!Wanda started off by encouraging you to suck on her fingers while on your knees. You were a little confused, but you never denied your mommy’s wishes.

This went on for a week until one particular dinner. Wanda had cooked a lavish meal, even lit some candles, all for this secret special occasion.

As you put your cutlery down and sipped on your juice (you weren’t allowed wine because apparently it wasn’t suitable for your innocent mind), Wanda shifted her chair back slightly, leaving a gap between her knees and the table. You watched curiously.

“Honey, come and kneel for me.”

Without any hesitation, you got up and knelt in front of Wanda, looking up with a sweet smile. Your mouth opened automatically, expecting two fingers, but she shook her head.

“We’re going to try something new today.” Mommy!Wanda unbuckled her belt, pulling them down a bit to reveal her deep red strap. Your eyes widened in surprise, because you’d never seen one before, only heard of them.

“It’s just like my fingers, but better. Can you suck on it, sweetheart? Mommy would be so pleased.” Her soft voice never failed to make you melt into a submissive, pliant state. So after a moment of figuring out how to start, you leaned your head forward, edging the tip into your mouth.

“That’s it, honey, just like that.” Wanda bit her lip, guiding your head down further, the strap halfway into your mouth. You whimpered, because it was a lot different than two fingers, but you were determined to please your mommy.

You reached the bottom, gagging slightly as you looked up at Wanda, noticing her pleasured expression. Although she couldn’t feel the strap, she got just as much pleasure watching you.

“Oh, princess, you’re a natural. Now, like this..” Wanda gently gripped your hair, guiding your head up and down until you got used to the motion, doing it yourself. Tears formed in your eyes, but you didn’t want to stop.

After a few minutes, Wanda finally guided your head backwards, away from the now wet strap. You gasped for breath, wiping your eyes and the corners of your mouth quickly.

“You did so well, baby. Mommy’s so proud of you.”

Wanda continued to praise you, even a few hours later when you were curled up in bed. You wanted to do it over and over if really pleased Wanda so much.

“Maybe tomorrow I can teach you all the other things we can do with that toy, hm?” She suggested, and you nodded eagerly.

Mommy!Wanda chuckled at how quickly you agreed to everything. You really were her innocent girl.

—

Ugh writing this changed my brain chemistry.

#mommy!wanda #mommy!wanda x reader #dom!wanda #sub!reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #innocent!reader #wanda maximoff smut #elizabeth olsen #milf!wanda maximoff #milf!wanda #lgbtq #wanda x reader #mama!wanda

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vanteguccir · 11 months ago

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTWO IS ALWAYS BETTER * CHRATT

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N acts like a brat during a night out, and Matt and Chris have to put her in her place.

FEATURING　matt & chris sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes, by anon.

WARNINGS　::　smut (mdni), threesome, double penetration (p in v & p in a), degradation kink, praising kink, overstimulation, use of vibrator.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The restaurant was buzzing with activity, the clinking of cutlery against plates, soft chatter filling the air, and the occasional laugh from a neighboring table. The warm ambiance was perfect for an evening out, but for Y/N, the night held a particular thrill. She sat between Chris and Matt, with Nick across from her, and she felt a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. The excitement of testing boundaries and seeing how far she could push them sent some euphoric through her.

Chris was speaking to her, his tone laced with something she couldn't quite decipher, but she chose to focus on the waiter who had just approached their table. He was tall with a charming smile, and Y/N made sure to bat her eyelashes at him as he took their drink orders. The way his eyes lingered on her just a little too long gave her the perfect opportunity to set her plan into motion.

"I’ll have a glass of Merlot, please." She said, her voice dripping with sweetness, her eyes locked on the waiter’s.

Chris stopped talking abruptly, exchanging a look with Matt, their jaws tightening simultaneously. The tension was almost palpable, an electric charge that made the air between them sizzle. Nick, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, stifled a laugh and kept his gaze on the menu, though his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Merlot for the lady, and for the gentlemen?" The waiter asked, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing at the table.

"I’ll have a Pepsi." Chris said curtly, his eyes never leaving Y/N's side profile, a warning simmering just beneath the surface.

"And a root beer." Matt added, his tone equally clipped, his posture rigid.

Nick ordered a Dr. Pepper, and as the waiter left, Y/N felt Chris’s hand press on her thigh under the table, his grip firm and unyielding. She ignored it and her own need to put her hand above his, turning to Nick with a bright smile, the picture of innocence.

"Nick, what do you recommend here?" She asked, her voice light and playful, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her still empty glass, her red tinted nails glowing below the dimly lights.

Nick smirked, knowing exactly what she was doing, shaking his head slightly.

"The steak with pasta is pretty good." He replied, glancing at his brothers who were fuming silently, their expressions dark and brooding.

Throughout dinner, Y/N continued her little game. She giggled at the waiter’s jokes, asked for extra attention when ordering, and seemed oblivious to Chris and Matt’s increasingly dark expressions. Every time Chris or Matt tried to engage her in conversation, she would give a noncommittal answer, turning her attention back to Nick or the waiter. The thrill of rebellion coursed through her veins, making her heart race with excitement.

"Babe, do you want to share a dessert?" Chris asked, his voice strained with suppressed frustration, his patience wearing thin.

She didn’t even look at him, her gaze fixed on Nick, smiling widely to him.

"Nick, do you think the cheesecake here is good?" She asked, her voice light and teasing, her fingers holding the menu lightly.

Nick’s eyes sparkled with amusement, but he kept his answer short, not daring to look at his brothers again.

"Yeah, it’s not bad." He muttered, pressing his lips into a thin line, lowering his gaze to his phone to hide his grin.

Chris’s hand tightened on her thigh, his fingers digging in almost painfully, his short nails bruising her soft skin. Y/N bit her red bottom lip to keep from gasping, but she refused to give in. She could feel Matt’s gaze burning into her from the other side, his posture tense and coiled like a spring ready to snap.

When the waiter returned with the dessert menu, Y/N leaned in slightly, resting her elbows on the wooden table, her smile flirtatious and inviting.

"What do you recommend?" She asked, her voice soft and seductive, her pearly teeth caging her bottom lip in a light grip.

The waiter, clearly enjoying the attention, suggested a few options, and Y/N nodded, pretending to deliberate. She could feel the tension radiating from Chris and Matt, and it only fueled her brattiness, the need to push them further, simmering just beneath the surface.

"I think I’ll go with the chocolate lava cake. Please." She finally said, handing the menu back with a dazzling smile, winking at the waiter as he walked away.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Chris’s grip on her thigh moved higher, dangerously close to her clothed pussy, pushing the hem of her mini skirt up slightly. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear.

"You’re going to regret this, Y/N." He whispered, his voice a low, menacing growl that sent shivers down her spine.

Matt’s hand joined Chris’s, sliding up her other thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her inner area.

"You’re playing a dangerous game here, sweetheart." He murmured, his tone deceptively calm, his lips brushing against her hair.

Y/N shivered at their touch, her resolve wavering slightly, but she managed to maintain her composure. The thrill of their possessiveness, their dominance, was intoxicating, but she couldn’t back down now. She turned to Nick, ignoring the hands on her thighs and their figures to close to her own.

"So, Nick, how was your day?" She asked, her voice light and casual, as if she wasn’t sitting on the edge of a storm.

Nick, barely holding back his laughter, played along.

"Pretty good. Edited some videos and posted a TikTok. The usual." He replied, shrugging, his eyes flicking to his brothers’ tense faces.

Chris and Matt were silent, their hands still, but the promise of what was to come hung heavy in the air. Y/N knew she had pushed them to their limit, and a thrill of anticipation ran through her.

The rest of the meal passed in a tense silence, the atmosphere thick with unspoken words and barely restrained anger. Y/N continued to flirt with the waiter, though less overtly, and Chris and Matt barely spoke, their anger simmering just below the surface. Nick continued to observe, his amusement growing as the night went on, the situation becoming more and more absurd to him.

When the check came, Chris snatched it up, taking his black card out of his Prada wallet, glaring at Y/N as he paid for it all.

"Let’s go." He said tersely, standing and offering her his hand, his eyes hard with unspoken promises.

Y/N took it, her pulse quickening at the dark look in his eyes. Matt followed closely behind, his hand on the small of her back, guiding her out of the restaurant with a firm touch. Nick brought up the rear, shaking his head with a grin, the whole situation a source of endless entertainment for him.

The ride home was silent, the tension palpable. Y/N could feel Chris and Matt’s anger, their possessiveness, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She knew she was in for it, and the anticipation was almost too much to bear. Every minute in the car felt like an eternity, the silence pressing down on her, the weight of their anger and desire almost tangible, causing her to clench her thighs together repeatedly, endlessly searching for some friction.

As soon as they walked through the front door, Chris turned to her, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something darker, something that made her pulse race.

"Bedroom. Now." He ordered, his voice brooking no argument, his gaze intense and unwavering.

Y/N swallowed hard, her heart racing as she made her way downstairs to Chris’s room. Chris and Matt followed, their footsteps heavy with purpose, each step sending a thrill of anticipation through her.

In the bedroom, Chris closed the door behind them with a soft click, his eyes never leaving Y/N, who was now standing in the middle of the room, her hands clasped in front of her body which maintained an upright position, waiting for some command. The intensity of his gaze made her knees weak, the anticipation almost unbearable. Matt crossed his arms, leaning against the wall, his gaze equally intense, his posture a perfect picture of controlled tension.

"You think you can act like a brat and get away with it?" Chris demanded, stepping closer to her, his presence overwhelming, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N bit her lip, her defiance faltering under his scrutiny.

"I… I was just having fun." She said, her voice wavering, the words sounding weak even to her own ears.

"Fun?" Matt echoed, pushing off the wall and walking towards her as if she was his next prey - in a way, she was -, circling her body with painfully slow steps before stopping next to Chris, his eyes dark with a mix of anger and desire. "You think flirting with another man in front of us is fun?"

Y/N’s breath hitched as she shook her head, her pulse racing, feeling nothing below their gazes.

"I didn’t mean to upset you." She said, her voice small, the thrill of their anger sending shivers down her spine.

Chris’s hand shot out, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up at him, her mouth parting slightly, a shaking breath scaping from it.

"You’re ours, Y/N. Ours to touch, ours to please. And you will learn your place." He said, his voice a low growl, his eyes burning with intensity.

Matt’s hand followed Chris’s, trailing down her arm, the touch of his fingertips against her skin sending sparks of electricity through her skin.

"We’ll make sure you never forget it, dove." He murmured, his voice low and dangerous, his gaze never leaving hers.

Y/N’s knees went weak at their words, the sheer dominance in their tones sending a rush of heat through her. She knew she was in for a long, intense night, and despite her earlier defiance, she couldn’t wait. The promise of their touch, their dominance, was almost too much to bear, and she felt herself melting under their gaze, the anticipation making her pulse race.

Chris’s grip on her chin tightened in a very painful way, his eyes boring into hers.

"Get on the bed." He ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument before letting go of her roughly.

Y/N nodded, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she moved to the bed, her heart racing with anticipation, her legs trembling slightly with a mixture of fear and excitement. She knew she had pushed them to their limits, and the thrill of what was to come sent a shiver down her spine.

She settled on the bed, the cool grey sheets a stark contrast to the heat building inside her. Chris and Matt moved with purpose, their eyes dark and filled with intent. There was an air of controlled fury about them, a palpable tension that made her pulse quicken.

Chris approached first, as usual, his hands sliding up her thighs, pushing her skirt up to her waist, exposing her completely. The cool air of the room sent a chill through her, heightening her awareness of every touch, every sensation.

"You’re going to regret being such a little brat tonight." Chris said, his voice low and menacing, his fingers trailing lightly over her exposed skin. Each touch felt like fire against her skin, making her squirm with a mixture of fear and anticipation. His eyes bore into hers, a dark promise of what was to come.

Matt stood beside him, his eyes fixed on Y/N, his expression a mixture of anger and desire.

"We’re going to remind you who you belong to." He added, his voice equally hoarse.

Chris reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a bright pink vibrator, the sight of it making Y/N’s breath hitch in anticipation, her eyes going from the toy to Chris and back again. His thumb worked on it, and soon, the low hum of the device filled the room, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. He turned it on completely, the vibrations causing a ripple of sensation through her body.

"You’ve been such a bad girl." Chris said, his voice almost a purr, as he lowered her favorite toy, pressing it against her tummy and lowering it slowly until it reaches her clothed pussy, pressing abruptly against her clit, the sudden stimulation making her gasp loudly. "Do you think you deserve to come after the way you behaved?"

Y/N shook her head, her breath coming in short gasps, the intense pleasure already building inside her."

"No, Ch-Chris." She whispered, her voice trembling with need. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, the vibrations sending shockwaves of sensation through her body, making her hips buck involuntarily against the relentless pressure on her clit.

"Good." Chris said, increasing the pressure slightly, making her moan. "You’ll have to earn it." His voice was filled with a dark amusement, his eyes watching her every reaction with a predatory intensity.

Matt moved to the other side of the bed, his hand meeting her soft skin, trailing down her body, his touch sending sparks of electricity through her skin.

"We’re going to take our time with you, sweetheart." He murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "You’re not going to come until we say so, yeah? Gonna be the most obedient girl in the world f'us."

The combined sensations of the vibrator and their hands exploring her body drove Y/N wild with need, her hips bucking involuntarily and repeatedly against the relentless pressure on her.

Chris free hand flew to her lace panties, his index finger hooking on one side, pulling it down as he pulled the vibrator away from her clit for just a few seconds. He pushed her panties completely down her legs with Matt's help, finally removing it before pressing the toy back into Y/N's pussy, the sound of the vibrations against her completely wet area now echoing through the room.

A dirty grin spread across Matt's face as he watched Y/N's spine arch upwards at the new sensation that washed over her in waves, his eyes fixed on her every reaction. Chris, also watching her, moved the vibrator slowly downwards, pressing the head of the toy against her still empty and desperate hole, pushing it hard enough for a small part of its head to enter her.

A loud scream escaped her mouth by surprise, her eyes squeezing shut and her legs shaking as they tried to close instinctively, but being forced against the mattress roughly by Matt's hands. The sensation of the vibrations now inside her drove her completely insane, making her dangerously close to her orgasm.

But, as before, every time she got close, Chris would pull the vibrator away, leaving her teetering on the edge, her frustration building with each denial. The denial was exquisite torture, the pleasure building to a fever pitch only to be pulled away, leaving her desperate and trembling with need.

"You look so desperate, honey." Chris said, his voice laced with amusement as he watched her writhe on the bed. "Do you want to come, dove?" His words sent a thrill of humiliation through her, the degradation only adding to her arousal.

"Yes, please... I need it s-so bad." She begged, her voice barely more than a whisper, her hips searching for more from the toy. The words felt like a lifeline, a desperate plea for release from the overwhelming sensation.

"Not yet." Matt interrupted, his voice firm, his fingers digging into her thighs, holding her still. "You don’t deserve it yet." His words were a dark promise, his eyes watching her with a mixture of desire and amusement.

Chris leaned in, his breath hot against her ear.

"You’re going have to be our good little slut tonight." He whispered, his words sending a thrill of humiliation and excitement through her. "You’re going to take everything we give you, and you’re going to love it. And then, we'll think about letting you cum."

Y/N moaned, her body aching with need, the combination of their words and the relentless teasing pushing her to the brink, their words sounding as if she were a mere object and had no say in any of that. She just obeyed. And, contradictorily, she felt powerful, even with all her submission before them.

"Y-yes- Fuck!" She gasped, her voice trembling with anticipation. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, the pleasure building to a fever pitch, her body trembling with the need for release.

Chris and Matt continued their torment, bringing her to the edge over and over again, only to deny her release each time. The hours seemed to stretch on forever, each wave of pleasure building on the last, leaving her a desperate, trembling mess. The denial was exquisite torture, the pleasure building to a fever pitch only to be pulled away, leaving her desperate and trembling with need.

Finally, when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, they moved in unison, their hands guiding her to her knees, Chris’s hands letting go of the vibrator while Matt's one's took her crop top off, smirking after noticing she wasn't using any bra.

They both removed their own clothes in quick movements before moving around. Matt lay down on the bed, his back against the mattress and his chest exposed to the room. His hands found Y/N's hips again, pulling her to straddle him.

Y/N’s body trembled with anticipation as she settled on top of him, her knees digging the soft surface below them both and on each side of his hips. His strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close, his hot breath hitting her cheeks.

Matt's hands worked on positioning her on his rigid dick, forcing her to sit on it with a prolonged moan, the girl feeling the full size of that huge cock inside her. And it was so fucking good. An absurdly wonderful feeling that she couldn't ever get tired of having.

Her attention was caught again when she felt Chris right behind her.

"Relax, dove." He whispered, his voice a low, soothing rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "We’re going to take care of you." His fingers trailed down her body, caressing her skin, before forcing her down a little. "Lean in. Support yourself on your hands."

She did as he told, placing her hands on the mattress as if she were trapping Matt in a cage made with her arms. That gave Matt mouth free access to her boobs, and the boy didn't hesitate to swallow one of them and caress the other with one hand, a breathless moan scaping her lips with the feeling. He was always obsessed with her tits.

Y/N soon felt Chris hands spreading her ass cheeks apart, heard the wet noise when he put his fingers in his mouth, and then, pornographically, he took them to her own mouth.

"Lick it, babe. Lick it well, yeah? Like the good girl you want to be so fucking much."

She didn't hesitate and licked it in an extremely obscene way even for her, containing a smile after seeing Matt's big eyes mesmerized by the sight.

Chris didn't wait long to take them to the most hidden orifice of her body, penetrating her with his skillful and now wet fingers, moving in and out of her; preparing her for what would come soon.

Y/N moaned loudly, enjoying the sensation of Chris's big and thick fingers inside her with the ones that came from her hip movements, going up and down on Matt's dick, rolling on top of him, panting and moaning with delight.

"You want to be such a good girl for us, don't you?" Chris murmured, his voice laced with amusement.

Y/N nodded, her breath hitching as she felt the pressure increase.

"Yes, please. I want to be your good girl." She whimpered, her voice trembling with need and anticipation. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, her body aching with the need for more.

Chris’s cock finally pressed against her tight entrance, the sensation making her gasp breathlessly. He moved slowly, allowing her body to adjust to the intrusion, the familiar mix of pain and pleasure making her moan louder.

"Ugh- Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Oh my Go-od!" Y/N moaned loudly, her head lolling forward in ecstasy, her hair falling over Matt's chin and chest, dragging over his skin. Y/N's jaw dropped at the new sensation, the thin wall separating them seemed to absorb both of their movements and take them straight to her swollen clit.

"That’s it, take it all." He growled, his voice filled with dark satisfaction as he pushed deeper.

The stretch was intense, the sensation overwhelming as Chris filled her completely. Y/N’s hands gripped the sheets on Matt's hips side, her body trembling with the effort to relax and take him in. Chris’s hands moved to her hips, painfully grabbing a handfull of her soft skin, holding her steady as he thrust deeper, the pain mingling with pleasure, creating a storm of sensation that left her gasping.

"Look at you, all stretched and ready for us." Chris muttered, his head hanging low as his dark blue eyes observed the way his cock was being swallowed completely by her hole, his voice a low, mocking purr. "Such a good little slut."

Y/N moaned shamelessly, because they were both very good at fucking her and because she had those two huge cocks inside her filling her in just the right way and leaving her breathless, her mouth open in an eternal silent scream, her eyes rolling to her head, her body undulating, rolling on both of their dicks, trying to find the right rhythm, until the three of them were at the same rhythm amidst moans, swearing, insults, "fucks" coming from all sides... Everyone moaning in the same tune.

It must have been a very erotic scene, better than any porn film she had ever watched before. Y/N didn't want it to end, she didn't want it to ever stop. She felt so complete with both of them inside her, so sexy, so wanted...

"You love being our little plaything, don’t you?" Matt muttered below her, his voice filled with excitement and possessiveness.

"Oh, she does. She loves being our good little slut, right dove?" Chris laughed breathlessly, his hands grabbing her ass cheeks with full force, his fingers pressing her skin in a way that he knew the area would be bruised by morning, and he loved the idea of it.

Y/N didn't know how they were still able to speak so coherently, she felt that she had lost the gift of speech, she could only repeat moans in the most pornographic way she had ever done and swear words over and over again.

"Answer me, pretty girl. Or we already fucked you dumb, huh?" Matt asked mockingly, his hands going from playing with her boobs to squeezing her thighs and then back again.

"Ye-es, Matt. I love it so-o much." Y/N gasped, her body reacting instantly, begging silently for more.

The sensation of being filled by both Chris and Matt was unlike anything Y/N had ever experienced. Her entire body felt hyper-sensitive, every nerve ending alight with pleasure and pain. The fullness was almost too much, the intense stretch making her feel completely claimed and utterly vulnerable.

"You’re taking us so fucking well." Chris said between groans, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "Such a good girl, yeah? My girl is proving to us that she can be so fucking good."

"Oh... Matt... Chris... oh, fuck... making me feel so good."

The neighbors were definitely listening and the boys were proud that they knew the names of whoever was fucking that wonderful little slut with such energy and power.

Chris leaned his upper body over Y/N's back slightly, bringing his mouth close to her face, his lips pressing against her ear.

"You like being so fucking filled, don’t you?" Chris growled lowly, his curly brown strands loosening against his sweaty forehead. "You love feeling this."

Y/N nodded quickly, her breath hitching with every thrust.

"Yes, I fucking love it." She gasped, her voice trembling with need and pleasure. The sensation of being filled, the intense pleasure, the degradation, all combined to create a storm of sensation that left her trembling and gasping for more.

She moved her right hand away from the mattress and searched for Matt's right one. She took two of his fingers, bringing them into her mouth, sucking them as if there was no tomorrow, her warm tongue traveling through their length, making more noise than necessary.

"Fucking hell, babe. Would you look at that." Matt moaned, watching her as if she was the only girl in the world.

Y/N smirked after taking his fingers out of her mouth, a loose strand of saliva connected her plump lips to him before moving them lower, pressing them directly on her clitoris, between their bodies. A new glow of excitement came over Matt's face and he began to touch her, rubbing and squeezing her swollen bud.

The new stimulation made the girl see stars, her eyes rolling to her skull.

She could feel Chris deep, strong thrusts in her ass, the familiar burn mixing with a pleasure that made her toes curl.

At the same time, Matt's cock drove into her pussy with a relentless rhythm that left her gasping for air.

The way their bodies moved against her, Chris hands gripping her hips to keep her steady, Matt's one's exploring her most sensitive areas, made her feel like she was on the edge of losing herself entirely.

Her senses were overwhelmed, her mind a blur of sensation. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure radiating through her, the intensity building with each movement.

The wet, rhythmic slapping of skin against skin was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard, one that left her teetering on the edge of madness. Her body ached with the need to orgasm, the buildup of sensation creating a tension so intense it was almost painful, which made her start moaning the kind of moan that she only created when she was close.

And the boys knew that.

"Look at you, so desperate to cum." Matt growled. "You love being used by us, don’t you?"

"Please... fuck, fuck, fuck." Y/N gasped, her voice trembling with need and pleasure. "Please, I need to cum. Please let me cum. Please! S-so fucking- Ugh."

Chris's right hand moved to her stomach, pressing it down hard as he began to thrust faster, the combined sensation of their movements driving her wild.

"Yeah, baby? You want to cum? Then you're gonna cum for us, and you’re going to thank us for it." He growled, his voice a low, commanding rumble.

The pleasure built to a fever pitch, her body trembling with the intensity of it. And with one last loud and prolonged moan, Y/N came like never before, her body convulsing with pleasure, the orgasm crashing over her in wave after wave, each one more intense than the last.

Her total pornographic moans filled the room, the sensation of being filled by both of them driving her to her peak. Chris and Matt continued their thrusts, riding out her orgasm, prolonging the pleasure, their dominance absolute.

"Tha-ank you."

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